Friday, November 13, 2009

A busdriver without a bus

Last night I saw one of the best pieces of theatre I've seen all year, if not the best. The Walworth Farce is a production of the Druid Dublin company based in Galway, written by Enda Walsh. It is difficult for me to put the awesomeness of this production into words, and in a way I don't think I should. For one thing, it was a total experience -- not in a site-specific or audience participation kind of way, but it inundated me at once with the symbolism of world of the play, and also immediately to my own, modern circumstances.

I read the play in part as an allegory for religion, or any tradition or ritual, floundering in the modern world, though many readings and nuances could be gleaned from it. Its most dramatic edge revealed it as a naturalistic family saga, in spite or more likely because of the farce -- I for one definitely thought of Josef Fritzl and the immense range of human experiences. The play is hilarious (think specificity of physical gesture) and yet deeply tragic -- the actors' expressiveness and intricacy of emotion are well well above par (these pictures demonstrate the farcical aspect more than the tragic, but I think the extremity of the actors' expressions illuminates the tragic aspects [especially Tadhg Murphy as Sean])

It was the kind of performance that was fully satisfying and still made me crave theatre, Brecht, Brook, Shakespeare, everything immediate

No comments:

Post a Comment