Figaro

Lest we forget this is actually supposed to be a blog about theatre (whoops!), I want to talk a little bit about a production which, most likely, none of you have seen or ever will see.  That production is Figaro, a collaboration of the Berkeley Repertory Theatre and the Theatre de la Jeune Lune (based in Minneapolis).  Aside from the achingly beautiful singing, the most notable part of this production is its use of live-action film to complement the stage action.  The focal point of the stage is the large white screen at the back of it, upon which is projected live-action video taken of the actors from various angles on the stage.  

I've seen film used in theatre before, but it's never been live footage of the action already happening onstage, and I've never seen it so effectively and artfully handled.  Extreme close-ups of actors during monologues creates a surprisingly personal atmosphere in which every detail, even the smallest twitch of the eye, shares meaning and emotion with the audience without obscuring the unique intensity of the theatrical experience.  The use of film also grants the director (Dominique Serrand) the ability to convey meaning through an unprecedented (at least in theatre) degree of detail.  

The most thorough example of this is Serrand's focus on hand imagery throughout--an expansion and re-envisioning of the expression "to have one's hand in marriage," no doubt--to indicate power (or loss thereof), ambition, love, lust, passion, violence, and (very occasionally) tenderness.  Such imagery would have been impossible without film, and with it, the phrase (which occurs late in the second act) "taking one's hand in marriage" takes on entirely new meaning, as does the tone of the play itself.  The filmic hand imagery lets Serrand take a story that focuses on the ridiculous sexual exploits of the rich and famous in pre-revolutionary France, and focus our attention on the political implications of the play (in a pivotal moment, the powerful, lusty, and wasteful Count balls his fist as he faces the camera, evoking images of Hitler asserting his power before a crowd of German patriots) as well as the unsettling nature of the sexual norms and displays of violent masculinity in the original opera.

Figaro left me with a strong desire to see (and explore) the potential of film (particularly live-action film) and theatre to act together, to create and refine tension, and to capture (and at times compete for) the focus of an audience.