Jennifer Madison Logan, Greg Prosser, and Randy Patterson. Photo by Alicia Turvin |
As we trudge, wary but hopeful, toward the 2018 midterm
elections, trust our good friends at Twilight to bring us that ever-popular ray
of theatrical sunshine, The Persecution and
Assassination of Jean-Paul Marat as Performed by the Inmates of the Asylum of
Charenton under the Direction of the Marquis de Sade, familiarly known as
Marat/ Sade. With
its impossibly perky subtext: “meet the new boss, same as the old boss” (or, if
you prefer, the less tasteful “vote out the bastards, vote in the sons of
bitches”), Director Dorinda Toner’s massive 24-person cast explodes across the
stage, bringing playwright Peter Weiss’ dark 1964 play to life in a grim
reminder that even the most enlightened and progressive political revolutions
rarely yield lasting positive change, especially for the downtrodden.
For those of you who, like me, might not have a clue what to
expect when walking into the theater, here’s some basic intel about stuff we
learned in school but may have since filed away under “irrelevant”: the French
revolution started in 1789, and initially ran through 1799. The French monarchy
was replaced with a shaky and thoroughly bloody republic, there was lots of
turmoil, and ultimately the revolutionary hero Napoleon Bonaparte (having
conveniently sidelined some of his more liberal republican impulses) took the
reins in 1799, created The Consulate, and then in 1804 began a 10-year reign as
French emperor. Each step in this complex process was justified, at least in
part, by the argument that making France a more liberal country that would
bring a better life to the oppressed masses (we all remember Marie Antoinette
and “let them eat cake,” right?). While they succeeded in abolishing the
monarchy, attempts to create an egalitarian, poverty-free society were notably
less successful. All of this info is key because Marat/Sade is a play within a play, ostensibly written by the
infamous Marquis de Sade (funny how we all remember him, right?) exploring the
1793 assassination of radical republican Jean-Paul Marat. The only other thing
you need to know is that the action takes place in the (insane) Asylum at
Charenton, circa 1808 while Sade was an inmate – as part of their therapy, the
inmates are performing Sade’s play, with the asylum director and other members
of the bourgeoisie as their audience. Oh – and resist the urge to sit in the
middle of the second row. Unless you are very, very tall, the seat directly
behind Coulmier, the asylum director, yields a limited view of center stage,
and things happen there!
Twilight newcomer Randy Patterson (the Marquis de Sade) is
one of the few actors portraying himself (as opposed to being a character
within the play he has written). He gives the role a controlled menace, with
just tiny bursts of mania, and the slightly creepy effect is enhanced by his
makeup, strong and expressive features, and daunting physical presence – as his
“play’s” director he is mostly silent and still, but always worth watching, and
when he does speak everyone listens. Patterson plays primarily off two other
key characters, Greg Prosser’s Marat and Stan Yeend’s Coulmier. Yeend clearly
has fun, and is fun to watch, being quintessentially bourgeois. He’s
well-dressed, full of bluster and condescension, leaping to his feet and loudly
objecting with lightning speed each time Sade’s play begins to tread on
dangerous turf, and quietly comforting his daughter when the action on stage
gets a mite too raucous. Prosser is
tougher to read – although he’s playing a paranoid schizophrenic tormented by
chronic skin disease playing a bloodthirsty rebel, he spends almost the entire
play seated in a large bathtub wearing only a beige diaper (the role is often played
fully nude, but I appreciate Toner’s directorial choice to provide minimal
cover). Because of the tub’s
placement (upstage, and not well lit),
the audience does not get close enough to Prosser to really feel his
performance – and one of the great strengths of Twilight is the immediacy that
comes with audience proximity to the stage.
The vocal ensemble is powerful, and does full justice to
Lola Toner’s fine original music. Among the resident lunatics, a few are
particularly noteworthy for their ability to commit consistently to their
roles, even when they are not the center of attention, in particular Chris
Murphy, Samuel Alexander Hawkins, and Tony Domingue. Skye McLaren Walton turns
in an unforgettable performance as the incredibly libidinous Duperret, and Eva
Andrews is stunningly focused, and totally oblivious to Duperret’s constant
rape attempts. Props to almost all of the women for gracefully letting it all
hang out during the final orgy, with special recognition to Kaitlynn Baugh for
confidently providing a moment of tasteful downstage nudity. Jeff Giberson’s
Herald is nicely sardonic, but perhaps a bit too glib to mesh cleanly with the
rest of the cast – I found myself wondering whether he was actually present in
the asylum or simply a one-man Greek chorus.
Marat Sade is not
performed often, and it is rank understatement to say that it’s a challenging
show to direct, perform, and watch. I suspect that most audience members walk
out (as I did) wondering exactly what they have seen. However, it’s worth the
trouble – see it, ponder at length, reflect on the currency of the topics in a
world that seems no closer to getting it right than the rebellious French of
the time. Do not, however, take your kids along, unless they are at least 18!
Twilight Theater Company’s Marat/Sade is playing at the Performing Arts Theater, 7515 N.
Brandon Avenue, Portland through October 28th, with performances at 8 P.M. on
Fridays–Saturdays, 8 pm, Sundays, 3 pm & Thursday, October 25, at 8 pm.
Another great and honest review, Tina! I so admire your writing!
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