The Art
Drama Exhibition Film Literature Music
Editor's Corner
Editorial Feature Video
Around Town
Cafe Citylog Fiction Society Outdoors
Archive
Mailing List
Uncanny But Real
By Sami Salehi Sabet
sami@tehranavenue.com
May 2009
به فارسی بخوانيم
  Email to a friend


Approaching the threshold of an inevitable reality is to confront fear and anxiety, the unusual and the unreal. This is an atmosphere that the director of Uncanny But Real is able to create on stage at Tehran's City Theater.

The director uses the element of darkness, which is the ultimate symbol of fear and anxiety vis-à-vis the unknown, to create excitement. From early on, the play makes it clear to the audience that there is nothing particular read into the play, as if the aim of the director is to bring the audience to a state of excitement in the face of unknown, pure and simple.

Uncanny But Real starts with the resurrection of two half-human bodies in near darkness of the stage. The two bodies perhaps never belonged to each other to begin with. There is an upper body -- chest and two hands -- and a lower body -- two legs. The two are completely separate and they are the irreal characters. There are no dialogues in the play but simply the interaction of these two entities. Two actors, one of which is covering his upper body in black and the other his lower body, perform the parts. This visual ploy would've been more effective had the play been performed in complete darkness; the stage, alas, is somewhat lit, which chisels away at the effect.

These two incomplete creatures are at first unfamiliar with each other. They instinctively react and attach one another. Gradually, their physical engagement makes them realize that they may have things in common, and this is the point when their movements towards each other start to soften, though they are still cautious. Eventually, things change, they realize that they can be together, become one. The quest for union begins and during this difficult struggle the audience becomes aware of a frightful reality -- one that only the audience and not the characters may be witness to. The outcome of the union is a monstrous amalgam that appears outside of this world. This is the moment of fright and anxiety for the audience who sees before her/his very own eyes the formation of a Frankenstein whom s/he thought human. The realization is fear itself -- fear of having been created in the same fashion. This is a major achievement of {Yaser Khaseb} as director of the play to be able to bring his audience to a critical evaluation of her/his origin.

In the second part or episode of the play, on the other hand, the two actors, who played the incomplete characters, take off their cloths and make-up on stage and become whole. As the stage lights up, Khaseb looses the frightful atmosphere he had so dexterously created. There seems to be no aesthetic logic to this change of tables on his part. The new characters still exhibit mild signs of wanting to go back to their half-bodied stage, but these gestures on their parts lack the clarity and translucency of the first part, and more than anything else they indicate the inability of the director to keep the unity and consistency of the play he had so beautifully created.

The end of the play is perhaps an attempt to fuse the two incongruent parts. A black wall falls on the two dancer/actors and hides them from view. The two, who had reached an agreement before vanishing and were dancing together hand in hand just before the wall came down, communicated with each other only with one hand.

Khaseb's audacity as a director, his ability to create the frightful atmosphere and to arrest his audience, is exemplary, though it would've infinitely been better to end the play in the irreal space of the first part than to give some form of reality to the characters.

Image Credit

Reza Moosavi for Iran Theater: http://www.theater.ir/news.show/+17230

Top