After having toured the National Theatre, I was extremely excited to see a play performed on one of its magnificently crafted stages. But to my shock and lack of excitement, I stumbled upon McPherson’s play The Veil, which itself was so dry its as if you could hear the paint cracking on the lavish set on stage.
For the first fifteen minutes or so, I readied myself to be blown away by a work of art and then found myself waiting to be wowed until the play’s very end. Eventually, the set lost its allure and the characters became nothing greater than what appeared to be miniature people on stage (this was the view from the seats in the very back) that held the same conversation for about two hours.
Nothing progressed within the play—even the characters remained stagnant in their roles, without the fluctuation one expects from live human beings. As the theatre’s website would have me believe, this play “weaves Ireland’s troubled colonial history into a transfixing story about the search for love, the transcendental and the circularity of time,” which speaks as much truth as a movie trailer for the next terrible action movie.
Normally, I would muster up as much appreciation as possible for a play with historical references, but I draw the line for this play. I can generally tell how interesting and well-written a play is by two things: 1) I can remember the main characters’ names, and 2) the audience remains awake and involved throughout the entire performance.
I have been to a lot of plays throughout my life and this one almost immediately reminded me of the last boring and insufferable play I sat through (that was almost 4 years ago). So, for a critic to say that McPherson’s play “is never dull” and “has a manic energy” is a bold-faced lie (Guardian).
The National Theatre has some of the edgiest technology and performance spaceswhich is why it baffles me that they would choose to carry on such a dry production on an already traditional stage space. Did the theatre managers fail to read the script? My distaste for this play is hardly unjustified; above all, a play should not make one want to leave the theatre, which is exactly what The Veil made me feel.
To begin with, an elaborate set cannot carry an entire play. What bothered me most about this production of The Veil was not the ghost story, rather, it was the actors that might as well have been the walking dead. For some reason or another, the actors did not manage to carry the play onward with energy. However, my harsh judgment probably belongs with the script itself rather than those who attempt to bring it to life.
McPherson’s play simply failed to excel and excite the audience—it offered a monotone portrayal of an already dull story. With a play such as his, it would be difficult to arouse any sentiment other than boredom (or frustration for remaining bored for so long).
No comments:
Post a Comment