Dina Goder. Fake blood

Fake blood
Dina Goder

Publication date: March 18, 2004

Yes , I know that Andrzej Wajda is a very important film director, I have seen his films. I know that he is also a famous theater director, although I have not seen his performances, and that thirty years ago his very first production of “ Demons ” at the Old Theater in Krakow was named the leader of the London international season. I also understand that he is 78 years old and his energy, of course, is no longer the same. I say in advance that I am filled with respect for the middle-aged classic, but this does not change my attitude towards the play that he staged at Sovremennik . A performance that, in my opinion, was outdated long before its premiere.

Andrzej Wajda had already worked at Sovremennik - in 1972 he staged here the American David Rabe's play "Like Brother to Brother" about the Vietnam syndrome. This performance was not a great success and did not live in the theater’s repertoire for long, leaving behind several legends among the old-timers of Sovremennik. One of them was that in the “cutting veins” scene, Wajda demanded that the blood flow be real, and for the premiere, fresh bovine blood was brought from somewhere where cattle are slaughtered. So, fainting and hysterics began in the hall due to the smell of blood, and this idea had to be abandoned. Blood began to flow from the veins, which was not real. The second archival tale relates to the fact that, having attended Wajda’s first rehearsals, the actors began asking each other if this was really “the same” Wajda. And they received the answer: “No, probably a namesake.” Just a joke, of course.

Exactly a year before that memorable Moscow production, Wajda staged his first “Demons” in Poland. It was then that he took a dramatization by Albert Camus called “The Possessed” (we staged it fifteen years ago at the Pushkin Theater) and remade it so that, as he himself wrote, from Camus’s play “only a few scenes remained, and only legal difficulties forced keep his name on the poster." Since then, Wajda has staged his version of Camus several times, on many stages around the world, and he also brought it to Moscow. Camus focused on Stavrogin and the conspirators, but this was not enough for Wajda; in his edition he tried to show the entire plot, which is why the play, where one short scene quickly follows another (only they have time to carry screens and sofas back and forth), turns into 3.5 -hour digest of the novel. A tongue twister, quite sufficient for those who have not read “Demons” and do not intend to.

The design of the Krakow production has not changed much over thirty years: the same screen with a stormy sky, sometimes illuminated by a sunrise or flashes of fire, the same muddy earth of an inclined platform (the performance designer is the director’s wife Krystyna Zahvatowicz). The same “black people” in black capes with hoods and medieval pointed shoes, as Wajda himself described long ago, “at first only moving furniture on the stage, and then demonically eavesdropping on human confessions and trampling people in an evil dance...” . And it’s true: again they move the furniture, again they gather in darkly symbolic groups and eavesdrop threateningly. And in the background is the music of Zygmunt Konieczny - a terrible rumble, crows screeching and demonic laughter.

To be honest, I have never seen such “black people”, or other straightforward symbolism, in recent years, except perhaps in very amateur theaters that continue to master the legacy of perestroika studio fashion. But even then this fashion was just catching up with the advanced theater of the 70s with its love for rigid, monosyllabic concepts, poster metaphors and sharp sociality. That is, in the early 70s, Wajda was really on the crest of a theatrical wave. But 30 years have passed...

However, God bless her, with outdated aesthetics, for Dostoevsky the most important thing is that the actors play, for this everything else can be forgiven. But even here Mr. Wajda remained his own namesake, who, apart from the famous “dobzhe,” could not help the actors in any way. And mostly young people play.

It would be easier if there was nothing to compare with. But there is a grandiose performance by Dodin , which once ran at three in the evening, and now runs all day, starting at 12 noon and ending at 9 in the evening. (The St. Petersburg “Demons” have already come to Moscow and will probably come again for a big MDT tour this summer). In this performance, many of the actors' performances seemed to be marked by genius. Who can forget the tall, ridiculous, shaven-headed Kirillov (played by Kuryshev), who looked like a huge suffering child? It was clear how the thought was moving with difficulty in his head, unaccustomed to thinking, causing almost physical pain and at the same time pleasure. Who will forget Pyotr Verkhovensky-Bekhterev with steely fanaticism in his bright eyes - disgusting and bewitching, like a snake? Or the disgustingly and inspiredly mocking Lebyadkin-Ivanov, the pitiful and desperate Lame-Shestakova? Of course, comparing is the last thing, but Dodin’s “Demons” themselves pop up before your eyes when you see on the stage of “Sovremennik” in the most important roles - Shatov, Kirillov, Verkhovensky, and many others - only cute boys, neatly separated according to the mise-en-scène. And in the roles of Dostoevsky's nervous and broken girls - beauties who have little understanding of what they should play.

Since the times of the Moscow Art Theater, which are still significant for Sovremennik, in our theatrical tradition the stage director always simultaneously turns out to be a director-teacher for his actors or works together with a teacher who helps the actor “stretch out” the role. A lot depends on the quality of the teacher - for example, in Tovstonogov’s best performances, Rosa Sirota, famous in theater circles, worked with him. I admit that in some other conditions, Vladislav Vetrov, who recently joined Sovremennik, could have played Stavrogin. In the meantime, he is only insinuating and edifying in a theatrical way. And what’s to blame for the young artists - apparently, the director didn’t say anything to them other than general words on political topics. However, experienced good actors try to create their roles independently, using what they have already developed in other plays and films. Igor Kvasha plays Stepan Trofimovich Verkhovensky as a flaunting intellectual chatterbox - funny and pathetic. In Kvasha’s acting life there were many roles of this kind - it is not surprising that he was successful in this one too. Sergei Garmash's captain Lebyadkin is as interesting as always, but as always rude, straightforward and more like a drunken brawler than a cunning and mocking graphomaniac. And my beloved Elena Yakovleva - Lame Leg - with her broken movements, alarmingly ringing voice and melancholy combined with madness, also outplayed the “blessed” sufferers a lot in the theater.

And yet, you know, there is something in this archaic performance that makes you watch it. It sounds ridiculous, but - Dostoevsky. On the day when I was at the premiere, among other beau monde, Mikhail Gorbachev also came to the performance. The public greeted his entrance into the democratic hall of Sovremennik, where there are no “royal boxes,” with long applause and sincere emotion. So, for some reason, during the performance, the fact that the first president was in the hall was never forgotten. As well as about our new president, about the recent elections and other political ups and downs of current life. When on stage the vile guardian of universal happiness, Verkhovensky, who dreams of binding everyone with blood, spoke with stupid, verbose and powerless liberal intellectuals, it became creepy. Dostoevsky's satirical remarks ceased to be funny and became recognizable. And when the Narrator came to the forefront and said with significance: “I will not describe the picture of the fire, because who in Rus' doesn’t know it...” - the audience burst into applause of such recognition that three days before no one would have even thought of could. The genius foresaw everything.