Bespobid

Playwright Ivan Vyrypaev in the social comedy "Drunk" pronounces the sentence with European values

*The play by Ivan Vyrypaev in the production of Viktor Ryzhakov (MHT named after Chekhov and the Center named after Meyerhold).

"Through the drunk, God says!" -claim the heroes of the performance: Laura (Svetlana Ivanova-Sergeeva), Gustav (Dmitry Brusnikin), Linda (Yanina Kolesnichenko) and Karl (Igor Zolotovitsky) /Photo: Anastasia Korotich

“Why get away from reality, if the reality is that we just love to drink, love this business, and not from any higher reasons to forget something. Why all the time hide behind some magnificent phrases. We drink, because it is great in itself - to drink! " - exclaimed one of the heroes of the legendary play by Lyudmila Petrushevskaya “Chinzano”.

This was in the seventies of the past of the past, and Petrushevskaya knew exactly where the real life of the human spirit takes place, where the brave heart of freedom beats, where the philosophical thought of the nation is pulsed - in the kitchen! In the "Chinzano" ties and languages ​​were unleashed, values ​​were built in a row, like devastated bottles, gently in contact with foreign labels. Young Soviet men, crushed by everyday life, humiliated by salary, strangled by the atmosphere of universal equality, despised by wives and children, dived into blessed alcohol carpet with all the passion and despair of a slave who broke off the chain. There, to the kingdom of freedom!

A bitter hangover

Other times have come, Russia again became a stronghold of the spiritual world of mankind, where the completely sober Zhirinovsky yells from the TV, pointing to the “bearded woman” that won the “Eurovision”: “This is the end of Europe! She rotted! " The completely sober President Putin now and then remembers in his speeches either asexual tolerance, then aggressive liberalism. The state ideology prohibited by the Constitution triumphs everywhere, it walks around the country by the Kustodiev Bolshevik, crushing hated universal human values ​​with huge boots. Russia sees God. Europe rot in man.

The play “Drunk” Ivan Vyrypaev, well known not only to Russian viewers, but also by pan -European, wrote by order of the Dusseldorf Drama Theater, where the prime minister was presented, the performance was staged by the Russian team led by director Viktor Ryzhakov and with German artists. Now the "drunk" play in Moscow - on the small stage of the Moscow Art Theater or in the center. Meyerhold.

In the play, everyone is really rampant - this is evidenced not only by braided languages ​​and excessive gestures of performers, but also by a tilted earth surface, on which - no matter how you try - you won’t pass in an even step. Five women and six men play eight drunken stories, more similar to circus reprisals, which is emphasized by the clown make -up - red noses, whitened faces, red wigs. In the first act, the plots exist separately from each other, in the second - the surface is straightened, poured with cleansing rain, characters from different scenes are mixed like in the Noah's ark and, spanking with bare feet in puddles, meet a bitter morning of a hangover like God's insight.

Gabriel (Artem Volobuev), Rosa (Irina Pegova) and Max (Alexei Varushchenko) dream of hearing the “whisper of the Lord in her heart” /Photo: Ekaterina Tsvetkova

Russians do not give up

Heroes - everything is like a selection of a well -fed bourgeois world: clerks, bankers, office hamsters, prostitutes, bored wives and even a cancer, director of the film festival. Drunk madness frees them from the sticky shackles of liberalism and tolerance that they tear on themselves like a sailor vest. Only instead of “Russians do not give up” and “we don’t throw our own” European revelations rush towards us: “Do not piss! - The main message of God! " "Time to love someone else but yourself!" "Hear the whisper of the Lord in your heart!" Everyone has something to repent of - in treason, in the absence of love, in indifference, in cynicism, in adultery, in self -interest. From the non-hungry, nervous and unnecessarily pathos monologues, the picture is formed-no more-all European collective repentance, which is voiced by one of the heroes: “All our laws, all our fucking liberalism, our whole fucking tolerance, our entire dull politics-everything happens from reality, damn it! We do not feel contact with the main thing! We do not even know that there is the most important thing! I tell you this, a citizen of the European Union! "

(The editors omitting non -normative vocabulary from this monologue, as well as from others, although the heroes of the performance are freely speak in the language that is prohibited from using in the media, and from July 1 it will be forbidden to speak it from the stage.)

"

You can enjoy the magnificent stage work, but there is an unpleasant feeling that you were deceived and under the sauce of the “social comedy” were plunged by the fucking anti-liberal agitation stuffed with the Eurasian clicus a la Dugin-Kurginyan

"

This is where the same cognitive dissonance comes. The performance was invented brilliantly, the genre of the absurd joke is designed from beginning to end, a civilian pathos of some texts, bordering on bad taste, Ryzhakov virtually hides into the circus, into the reprise, into the intonation of the Oeriuts, reaching the maximum comic effect, the hall shakes with laughter and falls under the seats. For the work of the actors, you simply experience some kind of inhuman pride, such accurate hits in the character, into the humor, in the genre at the theater are incredibly rare: from his youth, played brilliant duet Dmitry Brusnikin and Igor Zolotovitsky (Zolotovitsky played his first starry role just in the “Chinzano”), unexpected eccentric Maxim Matveev, the debtant MHT, star of the Yaroslavl Theater. Volkova Vitaly Kishchenko-actor of frantic temperament, some impudent, causing internal and external freedom, touching and ridiculous Irina Pegova as a prostitute-in red curls and with one stocking in her hand, the wonderful Yanina Kolesnichenko-in the tragicomic form of a loving and deceived wife, the boy group of office clerks, headed by the “brother of Catholic Priest "...

The team got excellent. The performance flies rapidly, ping-pong of dialogues, acting gags, instant transitions from a frank buffoonery to ruthless mental striptease-all this is the delightful skill of performers, director, artists (Maria and Alexei Tregubova), composer (Alexander Manotskov) fascinates, deafening. And through this divine veil, a disgusting, animal mug of the "Vyrypaevsky" Europe, torn by demons, bearded women and corrupting cinema of Lars von Trier, is inexorable. A society of a strangling society, devoid of God and soul, to which the author himself refers with an undisguised squeamish arrogance.

You can, of course, not read in the meaning, but simply receive pleasure from magnificent stage work. But there remains an unpleasant feeling that you were deceived and under the sauce of the “social comedy” they were plunged by the fucking> anti-liberal agitation stuffed with the Eurasian clicus a la Dugin-Kurginyan.

Petrushevskaya was more honest. She always knew that the sermon was the last refuge of the hypocrite.