Review of ‘Tattooer’: “Delible imprints”

The Charing Cross Theatre hosts the English-language premiere of Japanese author Takuya Kaneshima’s experimental play, in its second collaboration this with the Umeda Arts Theatre. Guillermo Nazara shares his views on the show, to let us know if this body of art ends up getting under the skin.

Ink and blood. Two opposites that converge in one single meaning. Two distant matters that however share the very same purpose – and probably, more in common than any other else would. Both give life, both retain it. And, at the same time, both can rip it away in one single blow. Both bring comfort and hope to those who need them. And both can be the channel for the most heinous deeds.

Theatre is often regarded as the highest shrine for human contemplation. A medium where reality can be dissected and turned in countless ways – making us see a different side of the world, which though may have been standing forever before our eyes, we just couldn’t notice up until that moment.

Takuya Kaneshima’s abstract piece, Tattooer, seems to play to that beat with staggering assurance. The story of an internationally reputed skin painter, whose artistic power soars beyond his drawings, the plot presents us with a philosophical quest of self-identity and spiritual understanding. That is, of course, if we manage to grasp enough content (with a bit of own contribution) to develop an idea of what we’re watching.

Inspired by Junichiro Tanizaki’s short tale, Shisei, the work is capable, at the very least, of scribbling a few interesting themes that merge Japanese societal customs (such as the concept of family honour) with a metaphysical portrayal surrounding the significance of our journeys on earth. Leaning onto a style that could fairly be considered early 20th-century avant-garde, the play succeeds at defining its own framework, as well as conveying some degree of personality. Yet, there’s not much else that we can find throughout it, with too many of its metaphoric components appearing to be there for one sole purpose: to disguise the fact that, in truth, there’s nothing else waiting behind.

Feeling shallow in substance and underdeveloped in form, it’s almost impossible to let ourselves be appealed (let alone, dazzled) by anything that’s happening onstage – with very few parts making proper sense and, above all, able to build any sort of connection; plaguing the script with over-verbose statements that, despite their affluence of declamatory resources, bring little to no richness to the material all throughout. In addition, though the performances flaunt care and determination in their delivery, there’s a general absence of chemistry and, at some points, naturalness and believablity – a trait that should always be present regardless of the approach, and whose omission consequently blurs, and even erases, any specks of dramatic cogency.

Stroking the surface of what’s still an open (and sadly, much empty) canvas for a transcendent, and potentially life-changing, jaunt, Tattooer sets up the basis for what could have been an introspective, and perhaps innovative depiction of the ingrains of existence. Yet, it swiftly shies away from its goal – leaving us with little more than a rough draft crafted by a soft pencil mark. As a concept, it’s packed with unending opportunities which, if handled correctly, could lead its experimental efforts to a ratified success. The problem, though, is that the formula is not even sketched.

All pictures credit to Mark Senior.

Tattooer plays at London’s Charing Cross Theatre until 26 October. Tickets are available on the following link.

By Guillermo Nazara