Theatre Rant: The only theatre I got to in May was a production of I Only Came to Use the Phone at Darlinghurst Theatre.
As you know, I love Darlo. I think it might even be my favourite Sydney theatre. The staff are always super lovely. The vibe is lovely. It’s not super pretentious. It’s a nice intimate venue… and, often, the shows are great. I didn’t really enjoy this one though.
I found it really, really, uncomfortable, and I haven’t quite worked out if it was good-healthy-confronting-learning-from-the-discomfort discomfort. It was just so fucking depressing. And I’m not sure I learnt anything or gained anything from my heart being dragged through the gutter and kicked around. Do we have to gain something from depressing works? Am I being fuck-wit audience? Am I demanding theatre be disingenuous? Am I asking for ‘depressing’ with a take-home message and do I want to be let off the hook? I can’t tell whether I’m being unfair on this work but I really disliked the experience of it. And theatre is about experience right? I don’t know. On some levels I want to like it. The production based on a short story by Gabriel Garcia Marquez (from Strange Pilgrims.) It explores the hideous experience of a woman in Franco-era Spain… which resonates with hideous experiences of women everywhere… in lots of different stories and landscapes, right? I wanted to feel the pain as a feminist and leave the theatre empowered and defiant, but instead I just felt kicked around. I just felt like shit.
Maybe if it were directed a bit differently, and, if Netta Yashchin, the director, didn’t keep getting up out of her seat in the audience and joining the ensemble. I’m not anti directors giving themselves a role, it happens. I am, however, against fucking with fourth walls for no good reason. Sometimes, (very rarely) fourth walls can be breached to great effect, otherwise, I LOVE FOURTH WALLS SO FUCKING MUCH IT HURTS. I want to suspend disbelief. I want to get lost in art. I don’t want to be constantly reminded it is art. Can directors please appreciate the magic of theatre, please? It was kind of a sloppy production. I didn’t care enough about the protagonist. I cared enough to be fucking depressed at watching her get kicked around but not in that complete, gut-wrenching way you’re supposed to follow a protagonist. The performers were all good, working really fucking hard, but nothing blew me away. It kind of felt like watching talented actors do drama exercises. Jullia Billington, in particular, got a real work out inhabiting tons of different characters with great skill and physicality.
There was also a really nasty lesbian predator rapist character (that the fourth-wall-breaking director played) and you can just imagine how excited I was to watch women raped by women on stage. I’m not disputing the fact it happens, (nor am I disputing the fact shitty things like abuse should be talked about/explored and assessed through art) I just couldn’t cope with that as an issue on top of all the other blows this play delivers. I never see lesbians on stage, and the first time I do it’s really fucked up. Grump.
I realise this rant has been a bit shit. I found it really hard to collect my thoughts on this one. Basically, I like fourth walls, and found this show uninterestingly depressing.
No comments:
Post a Comment