In which I wrap up my time with Bharat Rang Mahotsav

I got home to late last night to review, so this will have to be two reviews at once.

Last night, I went to Miss Julie, produced by China’s Central Academy of Drama. Yes, that’s right, frickin’ *schools* are performing in these international festivals. Students directing their peers. Jealous? Oh yes.

I did a scene study from this play and fell in love with the script. Yes, it’s an incredibly unhappy love story, but there are many incredibly unhappy love stories in life. I *like* naturalist plays. Sue me.

The set was kept very simple (it was really a very ‘safe’ production), everything where it essentially should be. A decision was made to hang the Count’s boots and Jean’s clothes on red cords at the front of the stage, which adds to the story. The costumes were lovely. Jean in a period black suit. Kristin in very conservative blue and black gowns (and character shoes, which I haven’t seen in any other play). Julie spent most of the play in a very stunning strapless red ballgown (that laced up the back) with white lace edging. At the end she changed into a shimmering dress and jacket in vibrant shades of red and purple. If you know the story, you can understand the choices.

The production was so safe that my complaints are minimal. There were sur-titles in English (with the grammatical errors that I’ve come to expect) projected on a screen on the side of the stage. The problem with this (as opposed to having projections on the back wall) is that you’re constantly moving your eyes from the projections to the action, which disrupts the visual flow you would normally get. The sound consisted of a variety of string pieces (all a little *too* familiar to me), played at various moments (sometime a little *too* obvious), at various levels (to the point where you occasionally couldn’t hear the actors).

My main complaint was with Jean’s (Guo Chaoyi) characterization. All three characters are complicated with wild varieties of motives that make them seem a little bipolar (which in Julie’s case, it can be excused). I think a director needs to decide if Jean is *actually* in love with Julie or if he’s manipulating her and run with that thought for the entire play. In this production, Jean played both of those options (albeit he did them both very well), confusing how the audience is supposed to see him.

Over all, it was a good production. Nothing innovative, but very pleasant nevertheless. I think, from everything else I’ve seen, I’ve gotten used to seeing a lot of choreography and song. I’m forgetting what ‘normal’ plays look like. Granted, I had trouble concentrating on the second half since the gentleman next to me kept goddamn TEXT MESSAGING. Jeh. Oh wait. That would be the person who gave me a ride (and gifted me with pepper spray on the way home). Beh.

Tonight I went to see Arabian Night, produced by a Delhi company called Performers At Work and directed by Zuleikha Chaudhari (who’s grandfather founded the NSD). This was a ticket that was bought for me, under the assumption that the story was based on those lovely mythological Arabian Nights stories. I don’t think anyone besides me noticed that the script was originally written by a gentleman named Roland Schimmelpfennig. So German. So *not* a story about a mistress telling an endless bedtime story.

The production was advertised as being performed in English. It turns out that when they said English, they meant Hindi. Fuck. Luckily, there was a fairly lengthy and detailed synopsis in the program, so I was able to more or less follow along. The strange thing was, even though I could only kind of follow what was going on, it was still *so* German. Just browner.

The design was very interesting. White walls, white floor, white table, white couch. Framed and divided into sections by white neon lighting (set up in a way that I *know* I’ve seen somewhere in Toronto). In the opposite corner of this whiteness, accessible by a narrow path, was a smaller acting area with a brown couch, a brown table, and a (real) dirt floor. Lit (but not framed) by white neons. A different reality of the same room.

The actors were all dressed in pure white, which meant that when they went into the brown room, they inevitably ended up with dirt stains. The performance was intricately choreographed (by Rahid Ansari who specialized in martial arts and modern dance) in a disciplined way which meant that the performers were sweaty as well as dirty (and half naked) by the end.

I was very pretty and interesting to watch, but it’s so damn hard when you’re only able to guess at the action in front of you. Where comedy existed, it was in the text, so I couldn’t be sure *why* people were laughing. I’m not going to tell you about the story, but it’s interesting enough that I would like to find it in English and consider it. You know, as a possibility. Maybe try to find a way to make it a *little* less German in presentation.