The Grand Master
The Grand Inquisitor
produced by CICT/ Théâtre des Bouffes du
Nord (Paris)
presented at New York Theatre Workshop in the East Village
Peter Brook is probably the most famous and influential director alive. He works
out of Paris. He's directed an adaptation of The Grand Inquisitor that
was presented in the East Village.
The reader will recall that The Grand Inquisitor is a
chapter from The Brothers Karamazov. It's a parable that Ivan tells his
brother Karamazov to make a metaphysical point (they talk like that). The story
is about Christ returning to us during The Spanish Inquisition. He is not welcomed
by the authorities.
Brook's contribution to theatre has been minimalism, and his stage here is nearly
bare, with a raised platform center, a chair UL for the Inquisitor and a chair
DR for his Prisoner, Christ. The stage picture is stark black and white.
This script is a monologue. Bruce Myers begins and closes with narration describing
the episode, but he spends the bulk of the hour speaking as the GI himself.
He's usually addressing Christ, Who sits with His back to us, and when he does
there are some wonderful moments. As he recites his dizzyingly philosophical
discourse, he reflects a series of fleeting emotions - in turns accusatory,
smug, challenging… His spare, carefully determined gestures are eloquent.
"Man must decide for himself what is good and what is evil," he says,
and he raises his forefinger to his temple in a gesture with mystery. And he
has a silent moment when his arms seem to debate with one another, reflecting
his own doubt.
Unfortunately, he has none of this emotional fluidity when, from time to time,
he relates to us. "Now you see them, your free men," he says to Christ
his Auditor, standing DC and facing us. His attitude to us includes only accusation
and, lacking subtlety, it lacks truth.
Marie-Helene Estienne's adaptation is neither reading nor drama, and so it has
neither distance nor tension. It's ill-conceived that she and Brook have the
same actor narrating and acting. Worse, we hear lines like "The day ends,
followed by night."
There are painful moments during the narration that frames the speech. Speaking
of the Inquisitor and his relationship to the Listener, Myers says "Then
he draws nearer," and as he says it, he draws nearer the listener. This
sort of trans-form literalization is difficult to sit through.
In short, this production belongs to my least favorite theatre species - the
show that depends on the celebrity of the artist. If Brook's name weren't on
the program, the name of the Grand Master, the production would be quickly dismissed.
Directors might note that the wooden riser on stage, perhaps six inches high,
does not define space strictly. Sometimes our man steps off it, like a drawing
that laps over its border. It's beautiful.
Steve Capra
November 2008