Photo by Casey Campbell |
By Tina Arth
Prior to last night, my only experience with A Clockwork Orange was almost 50 years
ago, when I saw (and hated) the movie. I have since learned that Stanley
Kubrick’s 1971 film, like pre-1986 American editions of Anthony Burgess’ 1962
novella, omitted the final chapter. The result was that an already darkly
dystopian tale was deprived of a hint of redemption that puts the whole story
in completely different framework.
Luckily for me (and for theater-goers around the globe) the
author never really liked the way his story had been handled on film or in the
U.S. print version. In 1987 Burgess released A Clockwork Orange: A Play with Music (subsequently updated for an
off-Broadway production in 2017), and it is this show, with the final chapter restored,
that undergirds director Cassie Greer’s stunning Bag&Baggage production at
the Vault in Hillsboro. I can best describe my reaction as West Side Story meets One
Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, with just a hint of The Wizard of Oz.
The play retains the novella’s essential elements, but the
staging and the addition of music lend a slightly lighthearted air that allows
Burgess’ essential themes (principally, that free will is essential to a
meaningful human experience) to shine through the story’s overt violence. A Clockwork Orange tells the tale of Alex,
an angry and violent teen in a totalitarian, futuristic society. Courtesy of
his unbridled aggression, he takes leadership of a strange little gang
(Georgie, Dim, and Pete) who express themselves with a curious lingo called
“Nadsat” that seems to be a hybrid of Russian and Cockney slang. Out on a crime
spree after a night of drugged drinking at the local milk bar, Alex and his
droogs (friends) fight with a rival gang, rob an author and rape his wife;
later they break into the home of an elderly woman who dies during the attack.
The other gang members escape, but Alex is caught and given a 14-year sentence.
A few years into the sentence, Alex is subjected to an experimental behavioral
modification treatment that uses aversion therapy to render him incapable of
violence. The treatment is initially successful, and he is released from
prison, but as Act II progresses things go (predictably) wrong.
The cast is all male, and with the exception of Aaron Cooper
Swor, who plays Alex, each cast member plays multiple parts, including the
roles of women. Jim Rick-White’s lighting design often assaults our senses with
its harsh use of contrast, while costuming and sets are minimalist. The effect
is a hard-edged but surreal presentation that features, but never glorifies,
the darkness inherent in the script. The play is filled with scenes of fighting
and raw violence, but choreographer Mandana Khoshnevisan has created a hybrid
of gymnastics and ballet that softens the impact and lends some humor to even
the harshest moments. The end result is a play where we never forget that we
are watching an allegory, rather than simulated reality – and this challenges
the audience to concentrate on the author’s (and director’s) thematic intent.
Swor is superb in a bizarrely challenging role where he must
lead the audience through a series of reactions from utter disgust and
alienation through brief flashes of empathy, setting us up to finally accept a surprising
degree of transformation as he recovers the free will he lost during treatment.
Watch also for Ty Hendrix’s athleticism and his skill at adapting to the needs
of his many roles, and for Andrew Beck’s supremely arrogant, almost inhuman Dr.
Brodsky. While you’re at it, watch them all – there are neither small roles nor
weak links in this 9-person cast.
Audience members are invited to read a synopsis of the show
at intermission to help them comprehend the dialogue, so peppered with Nadsat
that it might seem unintelligible at times. I started to look at a clipboard,
but immediately put it down when I realized that despite the odd language
barrier the actors had told the story so clearly that I needed to no
interpreter. If you have not seen or read any previous incarnations of A Clockwork Orange, go see the
Bag&Baggage production simply for the merit of the presentation and
message. Otherwise, forget everything you know about the book or film and go to
see a brilliant take on a compelling tale.
Bag&Baggage’s A
Clockwork Orange is playing at The Vault, 350 E. Main Street, Hillsboro,
through October 27th, with 7:30 p.m. performances Thursday, Friday, and
Saturday and 2:00 p.m. Sunday matinees.
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