Theorising a Satisfying Theatre

The three plays that I have chosen for examples of this discussion
have evoked very different responses from me. This is why I have
opted to investigate further into the reasons why they elicit particular
reactions and whether these experiences can be regarded as
‘satisfying’.

I would like to make clear that my main focus is on theatre that is

text-based. This is to eliminate any confusion with regards to
alternative theatre that rely on other methods other than text to infer a
story. This is a relevant differentiation as it would be all too easy to
deviate into other realms of theatrical depiction rather than
concentrating on the issue at hand.

Robert Lepage’s talent, it seems, is his versatility. In ‘The

Anderson Project’, he glides into each character effortlessly, dancing
into total costume changes, wigs and even genders with surprising
fluency. To describe his performance as energetic, even jovial, then
one must observe his writing and direction as subtle and
sophisticated, but in a dynamic sort of way. His humour never seems
to overflow, sprinkled with subtle ironies and sprightly wit. His
understanding of his characters is just as delicate, never veering on
the sentimental or melodramatic, but in contrast to the lively humour,
a stark indifference that leaves neither sympathy nor judgement on its
hapless subjects, casting a poignant mist amongst the audience. The
melding of ancient symbolism, props and mime gave me the
impression that I was watching a puppet show. Juxtaposed with the
stark naturalism of the characters mundane lives and the original use
of mixed media and stage design, provided the play with an
invigorating contemporary feel. Combined, The Andersen Project
simply overwhelmed me with its refreshing approach to theatre.
 David Harrower’s ‘Blackbird’ is conventional theatre in many ways.
The structure of the script is linear, the vivid dialogue conscious
and self-explanatory; the performances are concise in its
delivery; the direction taut and lean. All of which delivers clearly
an engaging, yet controversial story. It is here that the play
attempts to provoke and stimulate us into debate, grappling with
themes such as paedophilia, desire and love. What I find
interesting about this play is its ability to engage the viewer in a
state of suspense, whilst at the same time conducting a difficult
discussion upon a taboo that is not spoken about, swept under
the carpet without investigation. Although the subject matter was
complex, the issues raised were intelligible, inviting debate,
allowing enough ambiguity for the audience to make up their own
minds on how they felt. Although it probably wasn’t as raw and
visceral as other provocative plays, what it does do is clearly
sets the boundaries for discussion, then encourages the
audience to question then venture beyond them. This in itself
may be deemed conventional, but it does the job of maintaining
the viewers attention, whilst presenting challenging subjects that
are left open to discussion.
My first real experience into an unorthodox take on theatre was
when I witnessed a production of Sarah Kane’s ‘Cleansed’. Prior to
this, I had practically no knowledge of her work so did not know what
to expect. After reading a selection of reviews and interviews, it
seemed to me that the intention of ‘Cleansed’ was to emotionalise
and sensationalise a form of obsessive love. Intriguing and audacious
as this sounds, without prior knowledge and equipped with 24 rather
ignorant years of life experience, I was unable to engage rationally or
empathise with Kane‘s physical and textual metaphors. Throughout, it
was difficult, at times, grotesque viewing. The problem was not in the
direction, performance or the poetry-laden structure of the piece, all
of which seemed to elaborate the despair (/hope?) of obsessive love,
but came from the source itself. Now this isn’t to say that it did not
arouse emotions and provoke an intellectual investigation into the
ideas of emotional dependence, suffering and redemption, to list but
a few of the points raised. What was challenging was deciphering this
dense material and trying to rationalise then conceptualise this
plethora of raw emotion, after which asking, unflinchingly, to see
through objective eyes, the world in such an idealistically despairing
way. This is something I simply could not agree with. We are
presented with the facts every day. People generally try to navigate
around the harsh realities of the world we live, either through
ignorance, escapism or some other evasive method. This isn’t to say
that people aren’t aware of particular horrors, at the very least, aware
of the like existing. It is simply a mechanism employed to continue
with life, regardless of how depressing it may seem - a basic defence
mechanism. If we were all to perceive the world in such a heightened
sense of grim, perhaps we too would opt for the easy way out.

So to be expected to not only part with hard earned cash and even
harder obtained time to invest in such a starkly dissolute, emotionally
narcissistic piece is expecting a huge amount from an individual who
would have rather preferred to see ‘Sunday in the Park with George’.
Here, I am fully aware that I am open to a barrage of attacks, perhaps
even to profligate a sense of mass resignation, but let me at least say
this: it is easier to be seduced into a way of thinking rather than being
tormented by it. And this simply boils down to what an individual is
most likely to react to. Did I personally find this satisfying?
Ideologically, intellectually, morally, emotionally or philosophically?
No.

The problem with intellectualising theatre, or any creative art, is

that there is always the possibility of alienating the audience.
Narrative structures are there to facilitate the audience in digesting
the text. Playing with these conventions and being creative with
formulating and constructing new ideas is a necessary evolutionary
process, to maintain fresh interest, but this isn’t to say that the links
and structures have to be eradicated before it can be regarded, then
appropriately categorised as being ‘artistic’. Perhaps there is general
ignorance around audiences who find these intellectually abstract
textual forms unintelligible, but then perhaps in this deliberate attempt
to break free from these apparent restrictions, these author’s have
accomplished the very thing that they had set out to achieve – to
segregate themselves from the masses so that they can hold the
glory of being thought of as a true individual.

The idea of entertaining is problematic, as this doesn’t necessarily

entail a ‘satisfying’ experience. It might engage the viewer in an
almost crude and perfunctory way, though inherently lacking a higher,
even wholesome effect. This isn’t to say that one form is more
satisfying than the other, far from it. In fact, this is merely a
differentiation of one kind of satisfaction from another. On one side
there is routine-based, commonly recognisable and conventional
satisfaction, one the audience is familiar with and able to dissect and
comprehend with minimal effort i.e. entertainment. Friedrich
Nietzsche draws on Greek tragedy to describe the collective dynamic
of a cultural and socially cathartic process, which he likens to a
‘Dionysian’ trance. On the other side there is a more intellectual,
unconventional provocation that seeks to dislodge the audiences
understanding, forcing them to work hard to comprehend its narrative.

Here Barker is perhaps a little to hasty to deride other theatres

that adopt a more conventional practice. He is simply stating the
obvious, or at the very least, trying desperately to distance himself as
far away from it as possible (as any self-confessed artist would). He
does make valid points, but this does not sufficiently mask the
intellectual elitism that he so readily scampers to.

It is almost innate for a person to try to establish ‘meaning’. What

this actually constitutes is infinite in its form. Perhaps this need stems
from the fact that the universe is vast and chaotic, making
predictability and control valuable, if rare, commodities. The ability to
be able to grasp meaning and understanding gives an audience this
power thus compensating for the lack in their own lives. This isn’t to
say that this is the only satisfying aspect of theatre, but it is not too
incomprehensible to suggest that it counts for a substantial part of the
enjoyment. This is especially the case with regards to those author’s
who adhere to the school of ‘originality’, provocation and intellectual
sophistry, as their joy comes from the knowledge that they are
somewhat intelligent and prodigious in their art form, having joined
the higher echelons of the cultural, social and intellectual elite, whilst
their faithful, though occasionally, non the wiser audience come out of
the theatre feeling like they have attained the newest alternative
perspective of the environment they live in, like some passing
philosophical fad.

So here lies the point. What one deems satisfying is more than
likely to differ from the next person. Now this may seem like stating
the obvious, but if that were the case, there wouldn’t be such a well-
stocked theatre criticism section at Waterstones…

There are those that will condemn conventional, sensationalised

and ultimately satisfying theatre as nothing more than candy-floss,
created to maintain a kind of Automaton mindset rather than being
roused or provoked into action. My only enquiry into to this fairly
sympathetic point would be to ask whether the masses actually want
this particular kind of theatre, as it is only a particular sort that enjoy
the continuous prodding of the poker of ‘reality’, like some
masochistic sport. On the one hand it can be said that the masses
don’t know what they want, that they will simply feed on what ever
mass produced drivel critics and the mass media presents them with,
due to their lack of independent thought. On the other hand, it can
also be said that audiences do actually know what they want,
otherwise they wouldn’t pay for it in the first place. Commercially
orientated producers produce ‘hits’ according to what they have
researched into what audiences generally buy into. So the question of
what audiences actually want to see is an increasingly difficult one to
solve, especially in one swift, conclusive swoop, as this is a
constantly evolving dilemma. There are those who want to be
startled, shocked, provoked, educated, liberated, vindicated, etc.
There are those who don’t want any of that. They want to escape
from this moral and amoral dichotomy, they don’t want to face the
harsh realities of the world they live in, they want to renounce their
suffocating responsibilities at least for a few hours…And who is
anyone to judge otherwise?

So here we skirt around the begrudgingly and perhaps, un-

satisfactory, conclusion that there may not actually be such a thing as
a definably satisfying theatrical experience. At this point, I am
inevitably faced with the question as of what I personally believe to be
satisfactory. If one was to ask for my own subjective view on this
issue, I’d be left with the only intelligibly viable choice by replying that
it would depend entirely on what mood I’m in.

Perhaps I can be accused of being nihilistic, but then what is

Nihilism? What is defined as ‘meaningful’ and disregarded as
‘meaningless’? Whose standards are we measuring by? This,
paradoxically, leads back to Barker’s view on what he defines as a
satisfying theatre in the sense that it is an experience that does not
attempt to reduce a narrative to its bare points for the sake of the
audiences comprehension, but strives to make it more provocative
and problematic, forcing the audience to work and unravel, sparking
off a mode of continuous subjective inquisition. As Barker states

‘It is without a message…But not without meaning. It is the audience

who constructs the meaning. The audience experiences the play
individually and not collectively. It is led, but makes its own way
through a play whose effects are cumulative. The restoration of
dignity to the audience begins when the text and production accept
ambiguity. If it is prepared, the audience will not struggle for
permanent coherence, which is associated with the narrative of
naturalism, but experience the play moment by moment, truth by
truth, contradiction by contradiction. The breaking of false dramatic
disciplines frees people into imagination (Barker, 1998:38).

So here, perhaps, lies my ‘conclusion’, even though it may not be

deemed as an entirely satisfactory one.

References
Barker, H. (1998) Arguments for a Theatre Manchester: Manchester
University Press