Reviews 2008
Reviews 2008
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by Tom Waits and William S. Burroughs,
directed by Ron Jenkins
November Theatre, Tarragon Theatre, Toronto
October 15-November 16 2008
“Magic Bullets"
Toronto likes to think it is au courant with developments in the performing arts, but sometimes it is the last to find out about works that have achieved fame elsewhere. Such is the case with the eerie rock opera “The Black Rider: The Casting of the Magic Bullets” by Tom Waits, Robert Wilson and William S. Burroughs that premiered in Hamburg in 1990 and is only now making its Toronto debut. What makes this even harder to understand is that November Theatre from Calgary was the company to present the work’s English-language premiere in 1998 at the Edmonton Fringe Festival and has been touring the piece ever since. At least now, we finally get to experience the creation of a highly unlikely trio of collaborators.
“The Black Rider” is based on the German folk tale “Die Jägerbraut” (“The Hunter’s Bride”) by Johann August Apel and Friedrich Laun, a story in Volume 1 of “Das Gespensterbuch” (1811). The same story forms the basis for the opera “Der Freischütz” (1821) by Carl Maria von Weber, a work that is part of the standard repertoire, especially in Germanophone countries. Usually when a musical is based on a source that has previously been used in well-known opera the musical updates the story to its own time as in “West Side Story” or “Rent”. Among the many oddities of “The Black Rider” is that the creators keep the story in the same period as Weber’s opera. Meanwhile, Waits’ music is clearly inspired by the Bertolt Brecht/Kurt Weill works like “The Threepenny Opera” (1928) and “Happy End” (1929) though his lyrics are not nearly as pointed. Ron Jenkins’ direction, presumably inspired by Robert Wilson’s, is clearly influenced by German Expressionism, especially as found in the silent films from 1919-1930. Thus, we have a trio of artists deliberately looking at a story from 1811 through the lens not of 1990 but of the early 20th century. Back in 1990, when many artists intentionally mimicked period styles, people would have viewed the idea as “post-modern”. Now it seems merely eccentric and a product of Robert Wilson’s preoccupation with stylized theatre. He had, after all, directed a 1991 remake of the classic Expressionist film “The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari” (1920) called “The Cabinet of Dr. Ramirez”.
The musical uses elements both of the original story and the opera libretto. The action is preceded by an invitation to visit a circus freak show. Whether the story is part of that show is not clear. We learn that Kätchen, daughter of the forester Bertram, has fallen in love with the humble clerk Wilhelm. Bertram disapproves and favours the hunter Robert, but he says he will consent if Wilhelm, who has never fired a gun, can prove his skill as a marksman. Wilhelm’s first attempts are hopeless, but he meets a mysterious limping man in evening dress named Peg Leg who gives him a handful of magic bullets. With these he can hit any creature he wants to without even aiming at it. The thrill of the kill has Wilhelm needing more and more bullets from Peg Leg, a condition Burroughs explicitly relations to drug addiction. On the day he must prove himself Peg Leg gives him six bullets reserving one for himself. The result as in the story and opera is that Wilhelm’s first shot kills his bride.
One explanation for the rock opera’s multiple distancing effects may be that Burroughs in real life had the same horrible experience as Wilhelm. While playing a drunken game of “William Tell” in a Mexican bar in 1951, Burroughs shot and killed his common-law wife Joan Vollmer. He credited the incident with spurring him to become a writer to write himself out of the hell where his chaotic drug-fuelled life had led. Ron Jenkins’s highly stylized direction where every move and gesture is choreographed causes us to appreciate the skill of the actors but completely insulates us from being involved in the story or in the fate of the characters. Burroughs’s is also not an especially compelling storyteller. Digressions concerning Bertram’s ancestor Kuno and especially the tale of Georg Schmid that occurs right at the climax destroy the story’s momentum. It is also odd that Burroughs should retain the story’s subtitle, a major feature in the opera, when the actual casting of the magic bullets never occurs in his adaptation.
Nevertheless, the cast’s commitment to their roles is beyond reproach. In particular, Michael Scholar, Jr., with his eye-mask of black makeup makes the devilish Peg Leg into a forbidding, otherworldly character reminiscent of Conrad Veidt in the 1920 “Caligari”. Scholar is also the best singer in the group and puts his songs like “Gospel Train” across with ghoulish delight. As Käthchen, Rachael Johnston is also a remarkable performer, her long flowing hair linking her to Lil Dagover’s character in the same film. She also sings well but when required can go maniacally off-key when Waits imitates the operatic prison scene in “The Threepenny Opera” between Polly and Lucy. Johnston is adept at the physical movement and posing Jenkins requires and her slow-motion death scene is amazing in its absolute body control.
Kevin Corey is well cast as the nerdish Wilhelm and his actions seem inspired particularly by silent film comedian Harry Langdon. His intentional awkward movements hardly suggest that he is capable of acrobatic feats. He has a pleasant voice and his duet with Johnston, “The Briar and the Rose”, is the loveliest song in the show. No one would accuse Mackenzie Gray of having a fine singing voice, but his gravelly vocals are filled with menace and his “Lucky Day Overture” sets the tone for all the bizarrerie to come. Ashley Wright as Bertram is fine but not as studied in expressionist acting as the others while Colleen Winton as his wife Anne has the stylized moves down pat.
Marissa Kochanski’s set and costumes are elegant and simple, confined primarily to a palette of black, white and red and her properties representing stags and birds are quite clever. Michael Kruse seems to revel in the chance to exploit all the various on non-realistic lighting, such as the use of sudden spotlighting to highlight the theatricality of the show.
This is a show that one can enjoy if in the mood for weirdness for weirdness’ sake. Burroughs's attempt to give the work an anti-drug moral limits the larger Faust-like implications of the story. The performances of Scholar, Johnston and Corey are enjoyable in themselves, with Scholar’s a particular pleasure. On the whole, however, one can’t help feel that the work would have been much more exciting in 1990 when artists were preoccupied with the imitation of earlier art forms than now when the postmodern movement has run its course.
©Christopher Hoile
Note: This review is a Stage Door exclusive.
Photo: Michael Scolar, Jr. ©Ian Jackson.
2008-11-06
The Black Rider