The Truth

This review was commissioned by Mumbai Theatre Guide. An edited version is available here:
https://www.mumbaitheatreguide.com/dramas/reviews/the-truth-english-play-review-naseeruddin-shah.asp


This is my original piece:

“The Truth” written by Florian Zeller, translated by Christopher Hampton.

Directed by Ratna Pathak Shah and Naseeruddin Shah.

Prithvi Festival at the Royal Opera House.

9 November 2018, 6pm.

 

The young playwright Florian Zeller is a wunderkind of the French theatre, one whose plays have been very successful across the English Channel. “The Truth” is the second play written by him to be staged in this city by Motley, who also presented his hugely acclaimed “The Father” last year.

The two couldn’t be more unlike. Whereas “The Father” is a searing study of dementia and its consequences, “The Truth” has been described as “a millefeuille of truth and deceit” (by Kate Kellaway in The Guardian) and takes a hilarious yet unsettling look at the pitfalls of marital infidelity. In this, it owes as much to Harold Pinter’s “Betrayal” as to the tradition of French farce.

The play reminds one of a Baroque court-dance in which couples switch partners; but with only two main players onstage at a time. Motley’s production has adapted the script, setting it in Mumbai. The characters are certainly familiar: educated, well-to-do professionals, artfully co-ordinating their convoluted private lives and seemingly normal societal existence with nonchalant skill. Here, we have two couples in which the husbands are best friends; and one of them is having an affair with the other’s wife. But what appears to be a simple, one-sided deception turns out to be far more intricate; and gradually reveals a Pandora’s Box of lies and cover-ups. The cheating husband finds himself increasingly embroiled in these, ending with the horrifying if hypocritical realisation that he is more sinned against than sinning.

This production, co-directed by Ratna Pathak Shah and Naseeruddin Shah, is presented in a naturalistic, conversational style rather than with farcical intent, thus making the characters and their predicament all the more believable. But the pace tends to slacken sometimes, tension abates; and one misses a more crackling, pointed approach. Even so, the inter-personal dynamics of the characters in each scene are perfectly realised.

Naseeruddin Shah plays the husband in an understated, almost casual manner…though not entirely devoid of mannerism. The underplaying is in keeping with the production as a whole; but, while it is true to the character by itself, he doesn’t quite come across the footlights and grab you. However, Mr. Shah displays a surprising comic ability in the delivery of some of his lines, with impeccable timing.

As his wife, Avantika Akerkar offers a highly focussed interpretation, in which every thought and emotion is precisely expressed, vocally and physically. It is a riveting performance, especially in the final scene during which the wife’s own  duplicity is tantalisingly hinted-at.

Shruti Vyas, in the role of the friend’s wife, is a direct, “open” actress who makes the character and what she is going through immediately communicable, while Gaurav Sharma as her husband presents a cool façade of subterfuge.

The production’s design is simple yet effective. The single set ingeniously becomes six separate locales, each presented convincingly (without any glitches, thanks to efficient stage-management) and accurately lit by Arghya Lahiri and Rahul Rai. The sound-design and execution, by Saahil Vaid and Dhruv Kalra, is realistic though sometimes the sound-effects were a little too loud. One was really happy to note that body-microphones were not used by the actors; and one welcomed the natural aural perspectives owing to well-judged sound re-inforcement, in which the superb acoustics of the Royal Opera House certainly played their part.

“The Truth” might be regarded simply as a comedy about extra-marital sex, not too different from the many bedroom-farces staged in this city over the years. But, beneath its entertaining surface, it forces one to examine not only the tenets of modern (a)morality where “anything goes” but also how far one is prepared to go…and how much truth is good for you.

Baby's Blues

Drama review commissioned by Mumbai Theatre Guide, available here:

https://www.mumbaitheatreguide.com/dramas/reviews/babys-blues-english-play-review.asp

“Baby’s Blues” by Tammy Ryan.

Directed by Ila Arun and K.K. Raina.

NCPA Experimental Theatre, 7 October 2018.

 

The bond between mother and child is tenacious, yet tenuous. The very act of carrying a living, breathing being inside oneself for nine months, the pains of birthing and the ensuing sense of emptiness and loss all cumulate to an experience that can be extremely exhausting and traumatic, yet cathartic and joyful. However, some women suffer an ordeal which is worse than others, owing to post-partum depression.

Tammy Ryan’s “Baby’s Blues” is a harrowing study of this crippling phenomenon and how it affects the physical and mental well-being of one such mother. In this, Susan is unable to come to terms with what she has gone through and how to deal with its end result. Her conflicting feelings about her baby: helplessness, anxiety, frustration, rage and love, take her on an emotional  roller-coaster that descends into depression and psychosis. But ultimately, acceptance and love become her salvation.

The play is constructed like a spring that is progressively wound tighter until it reaches breaking point; and is then released. Yet there are moments in the writing where the focus meanders…until it comes back on track. This production, jointly directed by Ila Arun and K.K. Raina, follows its course faithfully, with the result that sometimes the tension seems to flag; but is quickly remedied as the play resumes its trajectory into this young woman’s private hell. The play mixes the surreal hallucinations experienced by Susan along with her reality; and, in this production at any rate, one is sometimes left a little confused: for example, as to who exactly the young girl at Susan’s side really is.

Dilnaz Irani initially seems a little one-notey as Susan in the first half; but comes into her own superbly during the second half in the confrontation with her husband, which is perhaps one of the truest, emotionally-naked scenes this critic has seen onstage. Her reserves of sheer energy: physical, vocal and emotional, are quite remarkable; and allow her to graph the woman’s devolving condition vividly.

She is ably partnered by Ankur Rathee, who is utterly uncontrived and natural as her husband; and an excellent supporting cast, among whom Anjula Bedi stands out as Susan’s mother, giving a chilling glimpse into what made her daughter what she is.

The production is an object-lesson in the art of staging, with an austere yet beautiful set, designed and gorgeously lit by Salim Akhtar. The music and sound-design by Sanjoy Dazz and Ambar Das is atmospheric and perfectly judged in its conveyance of an unsettled psyche. The popular children’s song, “Row, row, row your boat” becomes a leitmotif, heard in various vocal and instrumental guises through the play, and is entirely appropriate. The use of body-microphones on the actors certainly helps in immediacy and comprehension of the all-important words; though occasionally it becomes a little obtrusive. Having said that, it is still relatively subtle, compared to the heavy-handed, over-loud applications of this technology that one has sadly become used to in the theatre these days.

In sum, this production of “Baby’s Blues” does wonderful justice to the play. Although it can be heavy-going, it is ultimately uplifting; applying not only to the agonies of giving birth but to life itself, as in Susan’s final realisation: “Honey, you’re on your own…sink or swim”.