Can We Talk About This? (DV8 at the National Theatre)

DV8 blend controversial and provocative social commentary with abstracted pedestrian movement in this hit and miss production, which will either offend or inspire.

'Can We Talk About This?' blends verbatim testimonials that discuss aspects of 'extremist' Islam with DV8's trademark brand of physical theatre. The premise behind the performance is that Britain's multicultural policies have resulted in a separatist society that protects peoples' rights to maintain the beliefs and practices that stem from their cultural backgrounds, irrespective of whether these beliefs and practices are consistent with freedoms that are otherwise maintained in the UK. Thus the play discusses, for instance: the Salmon Rushdie fatwa, the publication of cartoons that featured images of Mohammed in Danish newspapers, honour killings, and the silencing of those who speak out against Islam.

DV8 postulate that the governments' fear of offending the Muslim community has resulted in a situation in which criticism of Islam is not permitted. In short, in relation to the issues discussed above, the answer to the question 'Can We Talk About This', DV8 suggest, is NO. Verbatim testimonials go on to complain that the unwillingness to criticise conservative Islamic voices in non-Islamic communities has served to help to silence the more 'progressive' voices in Islam that seek to question 'extreme' practices and beliefs that are contrary to the values upheld in other cultures. Whilst this theory is interesting, the problem with this conclusion, is that the stories discussed in this performance are well known to us. This serves to undermine DV8's theory that there is a culture of silence surrounding these issues. 

 Indeed, whilst I may sympathise with the arguments against some of the beliefs and practices upheld by certain 'extremist' Islamic communities, I would argue that people in the UK are all too ready to find fault in the extremes of particular branches of Islam. The great shame, I believe, is that the wisdom inherent in Islam goes largely undiscussed. My fear, at the end, when people gave a standing ovation to the performance, was thus that the performance had merely served to validate the growing tide of Islamaphobia that has swept across the UK since 9/11.

Having critiqued the content of what is said in the performance it is pertinent to mention that the movement was, at times, exquisite. DV8 are masters at isolating everyday pedestrian movements, repeating and/or abstracting them and turning them into dance. In particular, towards the end of the performance, a dance is made out of everyday hand gestures used when talking. In another inspired piece of choreography, an elderly lady sips a cup of tea whilst being twisted and turned in every direction around the moving body of another performer.

At times the movement serves to both compliment and add to the dialogue that runs through the entire show. At other times, however, the connection between the dialogue and the movement is less clear, and the one starts to distract from the other. Indeed there is an over-abundance of both movement and speech in this performance. I therefore found myself dying to request that the performers either stop moving and just talk for a moment, or else stop talking and communicate exclusively through dance.

Prior to watching this performance, I had never watched a live performance of DV8 before. However, I was led to believe that the group are one of the most important physical theatre groups in the world. Being a massive fan of physical theatre, I was therefore giddy with excitement, rubbing my hands together, whilst sitting in The National Theatre, waiting for the performance to start. Having now seen the performance, I can assure you that the hype is not unfounded. DV8 is an immensely important and talented physical theatre group. However, whilst I would recommend fans of physical theatre to watch this performance, I would like to repeat my warning that this performance will offend as much as it does inspire.

7/10

Photos:
http://www.dontpaniconline.com/events/16181/can-we-talk-about-this
http://www.guardian.co.uk/stage/2012/mar/13/can-we-talk-about-this-review

Master and Margerita by Theatre de Complicite (Barbican Theatre)

Moments of multimedia genius mask an ultimately under-par complicite performance. 
Master and Margerita is an intriguingly surreal journey into the frustrated mind of a writer, stifled by the militant censorship of artists in Communist Russia. The plot centres around a novelist, who fails to find a publisher for his book about Pontius Pilate, but finds, instead, the love of a woman (Margarita) who both worships the book and adores him. In a satirical twist to this faustian romance, Satan appears, hell bent on taking out Moscow's artistic elite. The complex narrative and unusual mix of styles prompted the acclaimed director to proclaim that the novel was 'impossible' to stage. However, although many complained that the show lacked the historical realism that was an amiable feature of the novel, for the most part, McBurney successfully overcomes these obstacles and creates a show that makes sense.


 McBurney's love affair with the book is evident in this performance as he takes large swathes of dialogue directly from the novel. Regrettably, this is partly the reason why the show, though entertaining, ultimately falls short of the usual standard that fans of Complicite will have expected of the show prior to taking their seats at the Barbican Theatre. McBurney is LeCoq trained and thus Complicite are at their best when communicating narrative through visual imagery.  Sadly the acting skill on show was not sufficient to hold the audience's interest in the large sections of dialogue that take place, particularly in the first half of the performance. Indeed, this is most notably the case in respect to the lead actress, playing the role of Margerita, whose vocal delivery fails to communicate any more than the shallowest meaning of her character's lines. 


There are, however, moments of trademark Complicite visual wizardry. In a moment of incredible choreography, (which recalls the visual trickery exemplified by the french Compagne 111), an overhead video camera records chairs being pulled across the stage by an ensemble of actors.  When this image is then projected onto the back wall it becomes a galloping horse, ridden by Satan. In another nice, though simplistic moment, a moving ticket booth becomes a tram, which collides with an unfortunate Russian novelist.  However, although some moments in the performance are aesthetically pleasing, all too many of these moments are multimedia based, rather than the product of outstanding physical theatre acting, as one would usually expect from this company. As a result, although one leaves the performance generally satisfied, one does not leave with the feeling that one has witnessed anything truly magical.


7/10


(Picture taken from Wiener Festwochen http://www.festwochen.at/index.php?id=eventdetail&L=1&detail=756)