"They say before a man is going to drown...it's sort of blissful." -Grigory

Theatre Review of John Hodge’s Collaborators, by Theresa Thao Nguyen

John Hodge, who wrote the screenplay for Trainspotting, wrote the new play Collaborators to be staged at the experimental Cottesloe theatre in the National theatre. After seeing this play, I can now see why it was a complete sold-out: the cinematic music, the surrealism and dark humor, its irony and historical implications, the intimate atmosphere, and of course the incredible performances put on by actors Alex Jennings as Mikhail Bulgakov and Simon Russell Beale as Joseph Stalin.

            With a standing ticket for 5 pounds, I ended up getting the best view of the stage. In this black box theatre, there were a limited number of seats, which created an intimate relationship between the actors and the audience— not only can you see every facial expression and movement, but also feel that the actors are giving you more personal attention when they looks out into the audience.

The dark grey stage, which lacks a backdrop, is placed in the center of the room, enabling the actors a 360 degrees view of the surrounding audience. The set design was simple—the stage was staggered to create different planes, which in themselves were marked as different rooms, and the props consisted of realistic antiques such as a wooden table, a black typewriter, stacks of old books, a working gramophone (cleverly painted red to match the outlines of the stage), a comfy bed, a telephone from the 1930's, and a cupboard on the side of a kitchen wall, which funnily enough served as an entrance for many of the characters. The set design overall was an eclectic mixture of modern architecture and classic period pieces. The quintessential costumes used also invited the audience to enter a different world apart from the present, thus enabling them to judge and distinguish well-known figures such as Stalin. Additionally, the stage lighting marked key moments of the play, notably dramatizing fantastical scenes with chromatic effects and black-outs during transitions in order to provoke suspense and gullibility from the audience. Hence, the audience throughout the entirety of the play is never sure if the next scene will bring them back to reality or to one of Mikhail’s hallucinating dreams.

The play was just as much about the sensory experience as it was about the words. The frequent use of sound effects, dramatic lighting, emotionally charged music, and even the use of smells from cigarettes and burning paper for example added to the cinematic experience of a play with a clearly goal-oriented plot. The echoed voices too were not only dramatic, but also disarming. In other words, watching the play was like watching a movie (the narrative being reminiscent of something like Atonement). Consequently, this effect catered well to a modern audience. There are bargains, threats, unspoken tensions, sweet moments of romance, uncertainties, high stakes and a life-and-death objective: to produce a script that glorifies Stalin within 4 weeks in order to save his and his wife’s lives as well as his career (via the removal of the ban on his previous play, Moliere). Unbeknownst to Mikhail, this exchange also involves Stalin’s slow and manipulative brainwashing of him, ultimately resulting in his tragic death.

The secret and seemingly unreal meetings between Stalin and Mikhail were hilarious and downright scary. The irony of Stalin typing the script and Mikhail executing the dictator's administrative work muddled our judgments and sympathies—on one hand, we like this arrangement because it helps Mikhail gets what he wants, but at the same time, we are slowly becoming aware of Mikhail’s transformation and his slow betrayal of his ideals and beliefs regarding the public good. The time we become aware that it’s a lose-lose situation for Mikhail (that is, when Mikhail couldn't prevent Grigory's suicide), the play becomes a tragedy. Consequently, all we become interested in is no longer in the dreaded outcome, but in how Mikhail approaches his end. At that point, we just hope Mikhail defies tyranny and dies fighting, or at least refuses to back down from what he originally stood for—the freedom of speech.

            Alex Jennings, who plays Mikhail Bulgakov, gave a most superb performance. His diction was not only clear and understandable, but also emotionally intense and riveting, making it impossible to stop listening to him. His gift with language also enables him to fabricate the intonations and the inflections of the words he speaks, and the ability to organically evoke truth from these very words creates convincing suspense and anticipation for following scenes. His generosity as an actor creates a dynamic and wonderful presence for every actor he interacts with. In fact, one cannot help but look at the other actors’ reactions every time he talks to them- again another indication of great acting. His acting prowess thus emerges not only from his convincing portrayal of Mikhail’s inner conflicts and struggles, but also his ability to affect others around him. Aside from having a developed and compelling voice, Jennings also exhibits great control of physical movement, being quite adept at isolating certain body parts, such as a hand flex or a twitch from his eye brow, in order to highlight the difficulty of whatever dilemma he faces. Furthermore, every sound Jennings methodically makes, whether with his footsteps or the repositioning of a chair, signifies his character’s perplexed state and foreshadowed tragedy. All in all, Jennings makes tremendous impact with his presence on stage. 

            Simon Russell Beale, who played Stalin, was also a brilliant actor, one who not only knows how to move on stage well, but one who can also maintain a strong connection with his scene partners, notably Mikhail, even when he turns away and faces the audience. With the fourth wall intact, Beales manages to express his thought processes outwardly, making his intentions quite frankly readable and seemingly simple. Yet the brilliant decision on Beale’s part was to delve himself in Stalin’s straightforward intentions. This characterization makes Stalin inevitably human, and consequently we become interested in how he manipulates another human being, especially after claiming to Mikhail that he isn't 'qualified' for the dictatorship either. Thus, Mikhail’s tragedy becomes even more tragic—that his downfall results not from Stalin’s deceptiveness (though he is a deceptive), but from indisputable circumstances that both Stalin and Mikhail agree upon (that is, Stalin writes the script while Mikhail mandates Stalin’s policies). Beale’s low intense voice, which leaves a lot more for the imagination than downright rage or force, makes us spastic. The implicit jokes regarding his dictatorship as well only add to the unpredictability of his reputable disregard for human life. Even with these comedic elements, Beale does the nearly impossible: portray Stalin as simultaneously bone-chilling and friendly. It's incredible to witness two seemingly contradicting traits existing in tandem from a ruthless dictator.

The play's surrealist and absurd circumstances might tempt us into frustration, but it never does because Mikhail continues to be the logical, reasoning character, who on the same boat as us, is just as lost as we are. We sympathize with him when he continually looks out into the audience for help or responds to his changing circumstances in complete bewilderment. The journey the play embarks us on thus will not let anyone sit passively, let alone yawn. You are in it for the ride, and like with every good piece of tragedy, you’ll be shocked no matter how many warnings were given to you at the beginning.