THE MOMENT THE FATHER BECOMES THE SON...

I love going to the theatre. Movies have always been another matter, I don’t particularly mind if I watch them in the cinema or in the living room. Well, possibly except when the experience is better served by 3D and IMAX, you actually NEED to go to the cinema for that. But all that aside, you might even say I prefer watching films in my own living room, in my pajamas and munching as many noisy snacks as my gut will hold. The magic of the theatre is completely different for me. London is a great and wonderful place and if cheap theatre tickets are your thing, there are a million and one different websites you can use to come by them. You have to use your noggin a little bit, but with a minimal amount of triage you can end up paying pretty much Band 3 prices for Band 1 tickets. I tend to avoid Band 3 tickets, but for this play, the price was very good. So I risked it. I ended up in literally the last row in the house, riiight up in the rafters. I was kicking myself as I took my seat – never again such false economies, I vowed – and my inner Middle Eastern started scanning the grand circle below to see if there were empty seats I could sneak into during the interval.

I am not going to say that I will now sit in Band 3 for always and always, I will probably still very much go for Band 2 at the very worst. But nor do I regret having got these seats up in the rafters in this particular case. It reminds one how truly powerful a live performance has to be. Especially as I now have pretentions at crossing the curtain to the other side of the stage, it is awesome and quite frightening that I, in a seat where I could comfortably touch the roof of the building (or would be able to if I was only about a foot taller) I was actually bowled over by the performances and the emotions. I cannot begin to conceive how you would go about actually giving such a performance (I can’t yet, anyway).

The Father is the story of Andre (Kenneth Cranham). He is getting on a bit, but by and large he is managing fine – or so he tells himself. His daughter Anne (Claire Skinner) would tell a different story. Andre doesn’t understand why she insists on finding him carers. Or why he frequently ends up still wearing his pajamas at the end of the day. Or where his watch is. Some days strange men and women come into his house (or is it is daughters?) and claim to be his daughter and son in law, Andre just doesn’t understand. But surely it’ll all come to him… He’s fine… Right?

Translated from the original Moliere award winning French play by Christopher Hampton, The Father gives us a toe-curlingly realistic portrayal of a decaying mind. The truly fascinating thing is the way the play shows us both sides of the argument. Kenneth Cranham’s Andre – who, in case you needed it spelled out for you,  is clearly suffering from some form of dementia – is a larger than life character who is painfully realistic. And the play is structured in a way that brings his disease and confusion right to you with hair raising (in a good way) reality. But although the disease is swallowing Andre whole, it does not swallow the story. In the midst of this confusion we see Anne and her husband Antoine desperately trying to cope with the effects of this disease. All characters are unflinchingly human. One vacillates between wanting to strangle them and wanting to comfort them… And this makes the story that little bit harder to watch if, for whatever reason, the topic is close to your heart.

The Father is definitely not your average evenings light entertainment. This is the kind of show that makes you stop, shake yourself and seriously think about life. You’ll go to the pub badly in need of a stiff drink and be a little too boisterous and loud as you try to expulse the dark clouds that gathered in you throughout the show. And as someone who has dementia in her family, I can testify to the fact that you will get a powerful insight into what life with dementia truly is like. I described the play in some detail to my mother and she reckons she wouldn’t be able to watch the play. And for all her eccentric tastes in film (I am yet to be able to discern a pattern with your viewing Mom, and this is from someone who has known you for 32 years) Mom is a tough cookie. Sensitive souls beware.

So how would I summarize The Father ? Strong, beautiful and dark. Very dark. I would also point out that it is in London’s Wyndham Theatre for a very limited run, so I would strongly advise you catch it before it is gone. Go on. Get out of the pajamas and put the popcorn to one side for two minutes. Life really does begin outside of your comfort zone and it is worth getting a little uncomfortable to really learn something about life. 

FROM THE "QUENTIN TARANTINO OF THE 16TH CENTURY" : THE DUCHESS OF MALFI (as broadcast by the BBC)

Well, this was an unusual one.  Recorded at a perfect reconstruction of a Jacobean theatre with a live audience this is a rather glorious performance of a classic by one of the greatest rivals of Shakespeare himself. I`m not quite sure if this one qualifies as a film. I`m not even sure if this is on DVD or not or how anyone based outside the UK will potentially get to watch it. Of course there have been films made of the story. But this is not a film, not strictly speaking. Then again, I loved it. It tempted me into putting money aside so I can go to theatre. And watching in Jacobean style, lit only with candles and with no backdrop, was a real experience in itself. I mean not to mention the fact that televised and recorded artistic experiences (be it museum tours or concerts) are more and more of a ``thing``. So… I reckon it gets a place in the blog. Besides, in the scheme of things these days John Webster is often overshadowed by his more famous contemporary. It`s high time there was a spotlight on his talent.

So what is the story? Well, our heroine, as you may guess, is the Duchess of Malfi. She is quite young and newly widowed, so she naturally has quite a few suitors milling around. The duchess however loves one man – Antonio. Unfortunately for all concerned however, he is not a nobleman but a steward of the household. Her feelings are quite requited and Antonio and the Duchess marry and have three beautiful children. This joyous state of affairs does not please the duchess` brothers. Her older brother the Cardinal is one problem. Her twin brother Ferdinand, whose ``brotherly`` love borders on obsession, is a completely different one. And they have their own ideas as to how best to ``retaliate`` to this ``act of treason``. 

The ``true crime`` fans among us will be fascinated to find out that this is, in fact, a true story. It is the story if Giovanna D`Aragona and her two brothers, Ludovica D`Aragona, the cardinal of Santa Maria in Cosmedin and her fraternal twin Carlo D`Aragona, the Marquis of Gerace. While there is no historical evidence of any actual foul play; there is evidence that Giovanna (who, to put things into perspective was married off at the tender age of 12 and widowed at around 17) lived in terror of her brothers` retribution. There is also historical evidence that the duchess, her two youngest children and Antonio were murdered in quick succession. Only their eldest son survived the carnage and, thankfully, lived a long and successful life. I think you can probably see where the inspiration for this particularly ghoulish play comes from…

And don’t get me wrong the play is bloody – one of the experts in a documentary I watched on the play described Webster as a Jacobean Quentin Tarantino – but for me that is not where the true horror of the play lies. We learn that the play comes after years of disappearance on Webster`s part – as in he just drops off the existing records for a number of years – then he just reappears and writes this. Whatever happened in the meanwhile, it clearly was not pleasant. Because we have eerily accurate descriptions of madness and depression that, combined with a strong cast, are fit to give the strongest theatre-goers the chills. In this performance we have a very striking character in the shape of Bosola – brought to life by  Sean Gilder – who is the catspaw for the Cardinal and Ferdinand. He is clearly depressed (and I mean clinically people, not just having a bad day) from the moment we are first introduced to him. It is the state of mind of a man who, thanks to the Cardinal’s dirty dealings , has already been sucked so deep into a world of blood, intrigue he just does not see a way out for himself.  Watching him fight himself and suffer as he gets sucked deeper and deeper into the two brothers plans is harrowing within itself. Then, of course, there is Ferdinand. Ferdinand is unstable from the word go, and I don`t just mean about his sister (although that is a massive part of it of course). As the stress on his system increases we find him incapable of coping and he transforms from the arch-villain to a tragi-comical character. It’s quite a natural progression really. Consider the villains we have seen in the past, the wild stares, the maniacal laughs the typical ``mad they called me, mad!`` Does it not follow that one of them should just fall over the edge at some point DURING the narrative? I`m rather amazed this hasn`t been done before really. I know it would spoil the ``dichotomy`` as far as Hollywood were concerned (you know, the hero wouldn`t have an opponent at his own weight category and that would kinda throw the film of kilter). But surely some of the indies could have done it? In this story the problem of the ``missing baddie`` is easily solved through the presence of the Cardinal who is the archetypal “evil priest”.  The Cardinal is nothing short of a psychopath by the way, in a way a lot more frightening than the unstable Ferdinand or Bosolo whose hands are steeped in blood but I’m going to let you guys discover that for yourselves later. And last but not least, a word or three must be said for Gemma Arterton who does a spectacular job as the duchess. The duchess you understand is neither a saint nor a harlot. She is a regular young and beautiful woman, still full of life and madly in love. She cares not about “familial duty” or social standards, she just wants to marry the man she loves. Her suffering and torment will turn her into what is almost a heroine from a Greek tragedy while her death (don’t tell me you didn`t see that coming) transforms her into what would be akin to a martyr in this play. There is something to be said about the fact that she ends up as “tragedy” while her fraternal twin, through his insanity becomes “comedy”, albeit with a deeply tragic streak. But that is possibly another post all together…

Finally, one simply must say a word or two about the production itself, because of course we must remember that this is not a film but a filmed play – which is a different thing all together. First of all of course, the minimalist approach and lack of props are probably going to throw you a bit if you’re not used to this kind of production. The lack of backdrops etc. may well mean you get a bit disoriented at first, but as long as the audience is willing to use a little imagination – and of course the performances are strong enough – you will find it very easy to follow “where” we are. Besides it gives the performance a strange kind of freedom, a sort of sense of being untethered from the material things. I mean this is tame in comparison too; I have seen a performance of Anthony and Cleopatra at the Globe where the actors just sat on a bench at the end of stage if they weren’t in the particular act being performed. So in effect, almost the whole cast was on the stage the whole time which is slightly disorienting to say the very least. What else? Oh yes, the lighting. It barely gets a mention in this blog I know (and God knows it SHOULD get mentioned) but here it takes on a life of its own. When multiple candles are used to mimic the bright light of day all is well and good but when night falls… The play between light and dark and the way the shadows are used are nothing short of (and in fact I would hazard a guess that in this particular modern production they were heavily influenced by) the kind of German expressionism in early black and white film that later also influenced the likes of Orson Wells and many other film noirs. In fact there is one portion of the play that takes place in complete darkness. Do take a minute to stop and think how that was received back in the 16^th century – the audience must have been terrified.  This period of darkness is part of the psychological torture prepared for the duchess and trust me, a 21^st century audience would be jumping out of its skin – much less a 16^thcentury one.

Do you know something? I would have loved to have seen this in the flesh. It must have been such an immersive experience… I really, really need to go to the theatre more often. Even watching this performance on TV was just… So striking… I really hope you get a chance to see this performance, recorded live or even in the form of a different film all together. Especially for all you gore and horror fans, there is a real treat in store.