Menier Chocolate
Factory
25th March,
2018
‘And since a woman’s the best there is…
I want to be one’
My relationship with Manuel Puig’s Kiss of the Spider Woman is a complex one. I’ve read the novel
three times now and studied it for my degree. The thick web of thematic,
generic and psychological intrigue (a Freudian analysis of ‘anal retention’,
anyone?), not to mention the translation aspect – along with other contributing
factors, namely depression, anxiety and the strain of being a perfectionist –
caused me to have a nervous break-down towards the end of my 21st
Century Lit module. Yet, despite being entwined with a difficult period of my
life, I remain adamant that Spider Woman is
one of my favourite pieces of literature ever.
So it’s safe to say that I had pretty high expectations for José Rivera & Allan
Baker’s new stage adaptation, and while there are moments of beauty, nothing in
Laurie Sansom’s production quite reaches the heights of Puig’s original
narrative.
Cell mates Molina (Samuel Barnett) and
Valentin (Declan Bennett) while away the hours of darkness by retelling old
Hollywood B Movies, reminiscing about their former lovers and cooking
delicacies on their tiny camp hob. Valentin is a political prisoner, fighting for
social revolution in Argentina. The openly gay Molina has been incarcerated for
gross indecency. Repressed in different ways the two prisoners initially have
little in common, but over the course of the play they bond through small acts
of kindness and a compelling need for escapism.
It’s a simple but effective set up, focused on storytelling and interpretive influence. Puig’s writing lends itself well to
the stage; the novel is written almost completely in dialogue, so an adapter could easily
just lift much of the script from there. However, the magic of this generic
literary style is in being required to read between the lines, of being
complicit in your own understanding of the story, and unfortunately Rivera and
Baker’s literal fleshing out of the story has robbed it of that necessary
quality.
Puig’s famous footnotes, sparked by seemingly
inconsequential phrases, transport the surface plot into a theoretical world of
psychological, political and spiritual meatiness. Unable to fully realise the
footnotes in a satisfactorily theatrical manner means that Rivera and Baker
instead have a tendency to overstate the obvious and remove any thematic
subtlety. As Barnett makes his final entrance elegantly draped in a silken webbed
dress, I couldn’t help but feel that Molina’s appearance as the titular Spider
Woman is better implied than realised in such a literal fashion. Moments like
this appear to oversimplify Puig’s intense and rambling examination of gender
identity and politics.
Despite this pickiness on my part, Rivera,
Baker and Sansom succeed most during the epilogue. Valentin’s drug-fuelled
stream of consciousness during what are possibly his dying thoughts comes
across beautifully on stage. Finally escaping from his island of incarceration,
he lives out his final moments on a picturesque island of tranquillity,
accompanied by a woman he maybe knows and maybe loves. They walk, hand in hand,
through an unearthly waterfall, silhouetted against movie-star spotlights, and
the final lines of the play echo those of Puig’s novel, which remains amongst
the most exquisite endings in the literary canon; ‘this dream is short, but
this dream is happy’. It is a moment of cinematic bliss of which Molina would
be proud. Sob.
Elsewhere, Sansom’s direction is equivocal in
its theatrical intent. There’s an air of desperation in the projections which
illustrate Molina’s movies. For an artform which is built on the tradition of
oral narratives, there’s a distinct lack of trust in the power of oration alone
– not to mention Barnett’s superlative performance - as well as a patronising
underestimation of the audiences’ imaginative capacities. Yet, where the story
provides an authentic scope for dramatic splendour, Sansom holds back. Molina’s
love of romantic, sentimental ballads and arias would be the perfect
opportunity for a dramatic and entertaining frisson, and there’s no doubt that
both Barnett and Bennett can sing their socks off! – yet we get nothing from
that teasing titbit.
Nevertheless, we are often told to judge
plays, and all forms of art, on what they are,
not what we want them to be. In this case, then, I have nothing but praise for
the central performances. Barnett is charming and suitably theatrical as
Molina, but also displays a steeliness and capriciousness which gives the
character depth and avoids turning him into a stereotype. His bruised
revelations about the falseness of his outside relationships is a raw and
truthful, albeit brief, contrast with the character’s silver-screen fantasies.
Bennett is a quiet, brooding presence, yet when Valentin opens up he affords
the character with sincerity and sensitivity. Sadly, Grace Cookey-Gam is wasted
in the superfluous role of the Prison Warden, and, while Barnett and Bennett’s
performances are definite pluses for this production, there remains an unease
surrounding the blatant whitewashing of what is a fundamentally South American
story.
Jon Bausor’s design is a triumph in
understated realism. The camp beds look suitably uncomfortable, and the tiled
walls are awash with grime. Small touches, such as the faded posters which
adorn the concrete pillars of the Menier auditorium and the real-time
preparation of food, ensure that the cell feels like a lived in, domesticated
space, highlighting the prisoners’ growing ease and attachment to each other
and the importance of small, frivolous comforts. As mentioned previously,
Bausor and lighting designer Paul Anderson come into their own during the epilogue, and create a strong lasting impression.
Kiss of the Spider Woman may have suffered from
directly succeeding The Inheritance in
my theatre-going diary. Undoubtedly, Lopez’s play is the superior dramaturgical
exploration of sexuality, politics and storytelling, yet I admire the attempt
to translate a ‘difficult’ novel to the stage. And while Puig’s masterpiece
doesn’t quite work when fleshed into a physical entity, I am reminded of the
unique and all-conquering power of the human imagination, and I am forever
thankful that stories such as this are produced and continue to make people
think, feel and dream.
Kiss of the Spider Woman plays at the Menier Chocolate
Factory until 5th May.
Declan Bennett and Samuel Barnett in Kiss of the Spider Woman. Credit: Nobby Clark |
No comments:
Post a Comment