the ramble dump
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Gormenghast: the Play
So, after intending to write a post about Gormenghast for, well, months now, I decided that this weekend would probably be a good time to do it after my sister issued from her sleeve a leaflet for a Gormenghast play, which we got last-minute tickets for and saw last night.
It was amazing.
It was done by the David Glass Ensemble at the Liverpool Playhouse, and it was my first real experience of the theatre. I think it might also have been their last performance of it this year. I can't compare it to other plays, but I was impressed. Really impressed. The more I'd thought about it beforehand, the more I'd realised that Gormenghast was the perfect novel for some bizarre physical theatre, but wow they did it well. There wasn't one weak bit of casting out of the handful of actors and actresses who did it. Obviously not all the characters made it into the play (Sourdust, Nannie Slagg, Keda, Irma Prunesquallor, the Professors...), but those that did all hit the mark. The most curious representation was probably Sepulchrave, who appeared as a short, dust-laden old man completely hidden away in his robes.
Their use of white sticks and rectangular black boards was something mesmerising, which they choreographed and fluidly rearranged into different sections of castle and corridor, doorways, haunting symbols, boats and all kinds, with the actors dressed in black running around as anthropomorphised shadows to change the scenery. There were times when setpieces literally seemed to melt in and out of the darkness.
The opening scene was the creepiest thing I've ever witnessed. I actually nearly wet myself. It was some some highly abstracted version of Titus' birth scene, with the human shadows scuttling about and chanting like things possessed, stomping their white sticks to the accompaniment of oppressive, rumbling sound.
From then on it only got weirder. There are moments when you find yourself watching a tufty-haired woman sitting on a high platform swaying to a bizarre tune of synthesised cats that you begin to question your sanity and that of everyone around you. Other fantastically surreal moments include Flay's lengthy travelling through the shifting corridors as he makes unintelligible interactions with the shadows; and the appearance in a window of the two Aunts' sideways heads, launching immediately into a mindless drone about power, during Steerpike's break for freedom from Flay's prison. And, of course, there were the stuffed cats.
Flay was emphasised more as a comic relief character, but he was still true to the book and the play as a whole was so weird that it wasn't a distraction. It had an appropriately twisted brand of humour mingled with odd visual gags like Flay's arm extending behind the set to deliver a message to Steerpike at the other end of the stage, and during the interval, Satan the monkey appeared in the form of a plump stuffed chimp to wave at the audience, later swinging insolently in the background during a dramatic exchange between Steerpike and Fuchsia. The most bizarre visual gags were Swelter's prosthetic penis, which spouted all over Steerpike at the start and was later removed from his person by Flay's sword, and then when at the end of that fight he mournfully removed a string of paper intestines from his fatsuit, which he later swung about while appearing to Steerpike in a vision and singing to him.
Another nice visual touch was how they represented the deaths of characters with a long red ribbon issuing from their mouths, which a dismayed Titus or a disgusted Flay would then lift between their fingers like a string of blood.
The most dramatic scenes in the book were captured perfectly, such as the battle between Flay and Swelter and later Titus and Steerpike. The lighting, the music, the movements, were all perfect. During the flood of the story's climax, a vast, rippling sheet provided the stormy water while Gertrude stood with others on the high platform at the back of the stage bellowing commands over the intensely formidable live score. It was intense.
Anyway, I could go on and on and on. Suffice to say, I really enjoyed it and every member of the cast deserves an Oscar or something. The main thing that contributed to the success of this play was that it wasn't just a straightforward retelling of the books; it took all their mood and their fantastical imagery and with sound and lighting and amazing performances captured it perfectly, and then some, on stage, in a way that I don't think would have been nearly as effective on the big screen. It definitely makes me want to go see more plays in the future. The only downside is that I can't watch it over and over again.
It was amazing.
It was done by the David Glass Ensemble at the Liverpool Playhouse, and it was my first real experience of the theatre. I think it might also have been their last performance of it this year. I can't compare it to other plays, but I was impressed. Really impressed. The more I'd thought about it beforehand, the more I'd realised that Gormenghast was the perfect novel for some bizarre physical theatre, but wow they did it well. There wasn't one weak bit of casting out of the handful of actors and actresses who did it. Obviously not all the characters made it into the play (Sourdust, Nannie Slagg, Keda, Irma Prunesquallor, the Professors...), but those that did all hit the mark. The most curious representation was probably Sepulchrave, who appeared as a short, dust-laden old man completely hidden away in his robes.
Their use of white sticks and rectangular black boards was something mesmerising, which they choreographed and fluidly rearranged into different sections of castle and corridor, doorways, haunting symbols, boats and all kinds, with the actors dressed in black running around as anthropomorphised shadows to change the scenery. There were times when setpieces literally seemed to melt in and out of the darkness.
The opening scene was the creepiest thing I've ever witnessed. I actually nearly wet myself. It was some some highly abstracted version of Titus' birth scene, with the human shadows scuttling about and chanting like things possessed, stomping their white sticks to the accompaniment of oppressive, rumbling sound.
From then on it only got weirder. There are moments when you find yourself watching a tufty-haired woman sitting on a high platform swaying to a bizarre tune of synthesised cats that you begin to question your sanity and that of everyone around you. Other fantastically surreal moments include Flay's lengthy travelling through the shifting corridors as he makes unintelligible interactions with the shadows; and the appearance in a window of the two Aunts' sideways heads, launching immediately into a mindless drone about power, during Steerpike's break for freedom from Flay's prison. And, of course, there were the stuffed cats.
Flay was emphasised more as a comic relief character, but he was still true to the book and the play as a whole was so weird that it wasn't a distraction. It had an appropriately twisted brand of humour mingled with odd visual gags like Flay's arm extending behind the set to deliver a message to Steerpike at the other end of the stage, and during the interval, Satan the monkey appeared in the form of a plump stuffed chimp to wave at the audience, later swinging insolently in the background during a dramatic exchange between Steerpike and Fuchsia. The most bizarre visual gags were Swelter's prosthetic penis, which spouted all over Steerpike at the start and was later removed from his person by Flay's sword, and then when at the end of that fight he mournfully removed a string of paper intestines from his fatsuit, which he later swung about while appearing to Steerpike in a vision and singing to him.
Another nice visual touch was how they represented the deaths of characters with a long red ribbon issuing from their mouths, which a dismayed Titus or a disgusted Flay would then lift between their fingers like a string of blood.
The most dramatic scenes in the book were captured perfectly, such as the battle between Flay and Swelter and later Titus and Steerpike. The lighting, the music, the movements, were all perfect. During the flood of the story's climax, a vast, rippling sheet provided the stormy water while Gertrude stood with others on the high platform at the back of the stage bellowing commands over the intensely formidable live score. It was intense.
Anyway, I could go on and on and on. Suffice to say, I really enjoyed it and every member of the cast deserves an Oscar or something. The main thing that contributed to the success of this play was that it wasn't just a straightforward retelling of the books; it took all their mood and their fantastical imagery and with sound and lighting and amazing performances captured it perfectly, and then some, on stage, in a way that I don't think would have been nearly as effective on the big screen. It definitely makes me want to go see more plays in the future. The only downside is that I can't watch it over and over again.
Labels: gormenghast, plays
# posted by
Chris @ 6:12 PM 
