Martin McDonagh’s uncanny comedy lands on the West End for the first time in this limited running production starring Lily Allen and Steve Pemberton. Guillermo Nazara shares his thoughts on this stirring show exploring the limits of free speech, to let us know how much cancellation this piece deserves.
“You only write what you know because you are too fucking stupid to make anything up”. Well, no doubt that remark surely caused some itchiness amidst the thunderous laughter that dominated the Duke of York’s last night, during the West End premiere of The Pillowman. In a time when any artist (or anyone) tries to create, analyze or simply deal with a topic anywhere remotely out of “their identity”, it does feel refreshing to hear a reasonable voice speaking out. It’s true that it comes from a blood-thirsty writer arrested on suspicion of killing several children, but that’s a completely unrelated matter.
Coming to see The Pillowman makes my job as a critic fairly easy – except for the fact that I can’t relish on the innocent delight of destroying somebody else’s work. I knew it was brilliant before arriving to the theatre. And I was reassured of it by the end of the evening. Having already seen previous productions, I must say this one excels in its own right. Basically, because it encompasses the essence of what this play is (and should be) all about: raw and disturbing, yet incredibly enjoyable and, somehow, charming to see.
Directed by Matthew Dunster, McDonagh‘‘s dark comedy is brought to life through 70s visuals to depict hte totalitarian regime in which two abusive (went without saying) policemen interrogate a woman called Katurian K. Katurian (not wise to use her initials) – an aspiring author whose penned over 400 short children stories. Surprisingly enough, they all feature the most gruesome kind of killings – and somebody (perhaps her) is replicating them in real life…
Inundated with luciously satirical humour, McDonagh’s abilities to transform what logic would relegate to a bleak plot into an uproarious comedy are honestly a work of art in itself. A trait that also applies to the play’s characters, probably due to the complexity and frankness that’s been woven into them. They can be brutal and despicable, but also honorable and amiable at the same time. It’s confusing. It’s contradicting. In other words, it is human.
With a set design by Anna Fleischle, the cinematographic approach of this production completes its overall success, adding further texture to the narration in a similar way the script does by itself: by creating an amusing, somehow beautiful ride out of misery and torment. There harshness of its reality, thoroughly depicted, is sometimes dissolved into the playful ground that is Katurian’s imagination, seamlessly transitioning from one to another – and very cleverly reusing same pieces of scenery with an entirely different look, an accomplishment also attributed to Neil Austin’s atmospheric lighting.
Both Lily Allen as Katurian and Steve Pemberton as Detective Tupolski give more than enticing performances in their lead roles. However, the highest rank is achieved by Matthew Tennyson’s incredibly captivating rendition of Michal, Katurian’s mentally impaired brother. The magnetism that he irradiates is almost intoxicating – making us care and almost fall for his character from the very first minute, providing him with depth and delivering his personality with subtlety, always avoiding a cliched caricature. On the other hand, Paul Kaye also stands out as Policeman Arial, for his insightful portrayal balancing an aggressive facade to masquerade a crumbling though pure inside.
As the author recounts, The Pillowman ceases to exist by the end of her tale. But that shall not be the case with the play that inherits its name. It may be on just for a short run. Yet, it has more than enough potential to extend it. And even it wasn’t, it can never cease to exist in the minds of those who have witnessed it – there’s just absolutely nothing in it that’s, by any means, forgettable. In some way, The Pillowman should be retitled as The Boogeyman. Because once it’s seized you, it will haunt you forever.
All pictures credit to Johan Persson.
The Pillowman plays at London’s Duke of York’s Theatre until 2 September. Tickets are available on the following link.