One of Canada’s most intense political episodes relives on the small stage of London’s fringe theatre. Guillermo Nazara shares his views on the show, to let us know if this new production is up for viewer’s reelection.
Morality is the corruption of political success. It may sound depressing to say so (it’s also Monday, so what do you expect?), but unless you are a 15-year-old expert with all the answers to save the world, our belief in those we’ve bestowed our power upon (if we’ve ever had any) is usually lower than the prospects of victory with an after-Christmas diet… I’m not judging you… In a world where apathy towards anything and anyone related to the Government has become the statu quo, it comes as no surprise that the theatre is once again bringing another tale dealing with the depressing reality happening behind the doors – and gl-ovally, under the desk too.
1979 doesn’t tell us anything we didn’t already know. Old concept, old story regarding the futility of ruling a country – at least, when there’s something else you care about apart from yourself. But despite how many times we’ve heard, thought of and, all in all, lamented a situation that’s never going to change (wanna dance, Debbie Downer?), we can take solace in the fact that we can laugh and being reassured about our misery by the world of comedy. “Don’t worry, everything is sh*t as usual”.
Centered around the Canadian federal elections that put Joe Clark in and out of office in less than a year (don’t need to mention which), 1979 (you see?) is a cunning, reflective and, on top of it, highly amusing comment on the Dark Arts. Written by Michael Healey, the plot focuses on the conflict between Clark (leader of the Progressive Conservative Party) and Pierre Trudeau (Traditional Conservative – in other words, a hat on a hat) as they campaign against each other in a battle where anything but good will can serve as the tool for triumph. Entertaining, perceptive and rather sharp at some points, the play provides us, quite thrivingly, with an inside look on how the actual game works – carried out with sass and intelligence, making of it a solid piece of satire despite some minor cliches.
Directed by Jimmy Walters, the production excels at transporting us to a place in which, as a viewer, you’re given the sensation of peeping through a tiny, secret window – becoming a first-hand witness for the machiavellian maneuvers of thirsty rulers (no need for clarifications, it’s everything you’re thinking of…). However, its delivery still comes with some flaws – starting with an opening scene that, though adequately setting the atmosphere, fails to fully grasp us. This is perhaps due to the use of unnecessarily long dancing sequences (a recurring comic device throughout the whole performance), which instead of enhancing it, it just ends up distancing us from the action itself. This problem is unfortunately heightened by the use of a small background screen, displaying fun details at the same time the dialogue takes place – often posing as more of a distraction than a complement. In addition, though the rest of the account is spotlessly presented, the pacing sadly falls out at its last installment – lacking a proper, satisfying conclusion to resolve the narrative with.
As for the cast, all the renditions stand out thanks to their creditable naturalness and, to some extent, drawing magnetism. Yet, the possibilities given by the fact that two of its three-member troupe play several roles are not entirely exploited. They have some flare and they do exude ease and chemistry, but wistfully the actors do not make enough differences among their characters – many of them depicted, with some exceptions, in too similar a way, thus unable to flaunt a full transformation in this cabinet of oddities (*mouth pop*). Nonetheless, some praise must be given to their much sympathetic (and quite infectious) tone – particularly to Joseph May as the hopelessly doomed prime minister, oozing both charm and charisma (maybe the kind the real one never found) through a rather intense yet always believable interpretation.
Enjoyable, witty and sometimes lusciously rough, 1979 toes its party line by crafting an astute, slightly insightful and, above all, uproarious observation of political mayhem, but loses its vote of confidence when it comes to its uniformity. Parting from exceptionally well-written material, it’s just a matter of retouching and emending a few blemishes that, though not too numerous, are strong enough to dilute part of its brassy flavour. The potential to keep itself in power is there, but still needs to be cultivated to let it flourish. In any case, it deals with the art of the possible, and “when the willingness is great, the difficulties can’t be great”.
All pictures credit to Simon Annand.
1979 plays at London’s Finborough Theatre until 27 January. Tickets are available on the following link.