The Threepenny Opera (SUDS) runs at PACT in Erskineville from July
3 – July 13 2013. Book and lyrics by Bertolt Brecht, music by Kurt Weill,
directed by Clemence Williams.
This is a really fantastic production of The Threepenny
Opera. I’m never quite sure if this is the kind of thing Bertolt Brecht
would like people to be saying about his work – maybe he would take “fantastic”
as a sign I enjoyed it too much instead of it making me think deeply about
money and property and capitalism and all that jazz – but I’ll stand by it.
This is a very clever production: simple, elegant, and thoughtful. Director
Clemence Williams has done a fantastic job bringing this incredibly difficult
piece of theatre to the stage.
One of the defining principles of Brechtian theatre, often
called epic or dialectical theatre, is the Verfremdungseffekt. This
serves to ensure that the audience do not become too deeply immersed in the
story of the play: they are always alienated from it, actively aware that it is
an artifice, with the idea being that this will allow them to see the story
lurking beneath. To put it really simply, the purpose of this effect is to
ensure that the audience cannot suspend disbelief.
This is actually really, really hard to do, because as
viewers, we are so used to suspending disbelief. The musical seems like kind of
an ideal form for the Verfremdungseffekt to be achieved – what is more
unrealistic than people breaking into spontaneous, perfectly rhyming, perfectly
scanning song, often in synchronisation with a large number of different
people? However, with the rise and immense popularity of the big scale musical,
we as an audience have come to take this as a given. We are perhaps too
familiar with the form. Often, the musical is the only form of theatre
some people consume, with songs becoming almost an integral part of the
immersive theatre experience. How, then, is the Verfremdungseffekt to be
achieved?
In this production, this problem is solved by emphasising
the “threepenny” aspect of The Threepenny Opera. It is only fitting that
a show so concerned with the politics of poverty be gloriously low-budget, and
this production embraces it totally. Operatic synopses are projected on a white
wall via an old school overhead projector, handwritten in black marker. The set
is almost entirely boxes and ropes. There are empty plates at Macheath and
Polly’s wedding feast. And when the performers do jarringly break into song,
the artifice of the musical is highlighted. There are no Britney-style mikes
and choreographed dancers here – instead, the actors must retreat to the microphones
at the sides of the stage, or wait as one is lowered from the ceiling on a
rope. One is reminded of Tony Kushner’s stage direction in Angels in America:
“it’s OK if the wires show”. Here, one feels, the wires showing are a
necessity. As we follow the story of Macheath and Peachum and all the various
women they claim to own in one way or another, we become aware of another
deeper level of meaning: a broader meditation on property, on poverty, on
morality, and on capitalism.
This show is wonderfully cast. Finn Davis is fabulously
slimy as Peachum, a sinister Dickensian villain who will not stand for another
man taking possession of his daughter, whom he perceives as his own personal
property. Patrick Morrow is similarly excellent as Macheath, charismatic and
amoral, treating both his criminal career and his career as a seducer as a kind
of art. These are the two poles around which the drama revolves: Peachum likes
to exploit the poor and Macheath likes to exploit women. The performances
offered by these two actors are perfectly pitched: engaging, but not so
consuming they we are not aware they are acting. I’d also like to mention the
four lead actresses – Caitlin West (Mrs Peachum), Julia Robertson (Polly
Peachum), Bridget Haberecht (Lucy Brown), and Zerrin Craig-Adams (Low Dive
Jenny) – who turn in outstanding performances. And the ensemble is great as
well. Casting actors against gender type – some of the whores are played by male
actors, some of the gang members by female actors – was a particularly clever
(and typically Brechtian) move.
There are probably a few things I could nitpick about this
production if I really put my mind to it, but overall, I don’t have anything
negative to say. This is a genuinely exceptional show, cleverly directed and
excellently performed. The first time I attempted to see it, on opening night,
I was foiled by a train suspension that left me stuck in Wollongong. I am so,
so glad that I got another opportunity to attend, because it was definitely
worth it.
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