Baal

In front of white walls hit by a glare of yellow light that greys his skin, Baal, a grey, hooded figure, plays discordant notes with a can of vodka and his fist on an electric guitar. He is not satisfied with the vibrations. He stamps his foot beside the guitar. He increases the volume of the amplifier. The whole theatre seems to reverberate. Thus is the audience greeted for Tom Wright and Simon Stone’s adaptation of Bertolt Brecht’s Baal! I see only two patrons cover their ears in a mixed audience – some committed STC theatre goers, older and younger, obviously undeterred by the warning of strong language, nudity, simulated sex and violence; others, younger, obviously attracted by a contemporary adaptation of Brecht’s first play – or perhaps the ‘warnings’!

In the introduction to Baal in Brecht Plays One, Hugh Rorrison wrote, in 1987, that Brecht’s character Baal “is bound by no conventions and will breach taboos without compunction”. This co-production between Malthouse (Melbourne) and Sydney Theatre Company is true to such a description. It is bound by few theatrical conventions and uses contemporary technologies and innovations which Brecht himself would have embraced wholeheartedly.

Apart from the amplified, discordant music and the glaring lights, the high ‘walls’ of the set eventually – and literally – fall away to leave a black stage where 2000 litres of ‘rain’ fall continuously from overhead sprinklers for the second half of the production. (STC’s careful explanation of how this water is collected, filtered, recirculated for eight performances then recycled to City of Sydney parks, is testament to their conviction of ‘greening the Wharf’).

The adaptation itself is short – only 70 minutes compared to Brecht’s original twenty-plus scenes – but time enough for Baal (Thomas T Wright) to make his journey of self destructive egotism. It seems he believes his existence will be brief and finite and must be experienced with wanton intensity. He shuns conventions, abuses verbally, physically and sexually those whom he attracts, and who follow him despite his cruelty.

In the original play Baal moves through a series of different locations in his destructive journey, but in this adaptation he moves from his discovery as a poet by middle class society, to a dark, wet wilderness of erotic seduction and coarse rantings. He is poetic in one breath, crude in the next. His friends accept it. Women cannot resist his bleak attraction. They gather around him, are used and rejected until at last he is a lone figure, singing to himself until he sinks to his naked death on a cold, wet, empty stage.

The production is demanding of its young actors. They are rarely clothed and for half of the play they are soaking wet. They are abused by the ugly language and accusations of Baal and his cruel sexual fumblings. They writhe in a naked, frenzied orgy of wet bodies on a wet mattress under fine rain. Yet they are strong in their resilient professionalism. Their voices are clear and beautifully articulate, especially as they meet and move and speak in unison as they reject the failing Baal. Baal himself is a clear and impelling, and repulsive voice and figure as he speaks and sings … “We are what we are/No escaping it/Head in the toilet/Amongst the shit …”.

Nick Schlieper’s lighting bounces off wet bodies, refracts through falling ‘rain’ and reflects through sodden puddles on his bleak set which is creative and shocking and utterly appropriate for this totally contemporary adaptation. Stefan Gregory’s sound is loud and discordant. Mel Page’s costumes in shades of grey and black and white - with some red underwear – are effective, if worn for such a short time.

The whole production is a merge of modern technologies and fearless, contemporary direction. In true Brechtian tradition, it is meant to shock. Does it? I suppose so! Technically, I loved it! The set, the effects, the acting, the direction can’t really be faulted especially if you like Brecht and believe, as he did, that theatre should be innovative and reflect society. If you’re easily offended, though, it probably won’t appeal!

Brecht wrote the play in 1918 in the wake of the disillusion of a world war. The Baal he wrote of believed he should squeeze the world for what he could get from it. Almost a century later, have things really changed?

Baal: I’ve always believed in myself but now I’m agnostic even about that. (Wright and Stone’s translation)

Carol Wimmer

Images: (Top) Oscar Redding and Thomas M Wright in Baal; (Lower images) Thomas M Wright and other cast members in Baal. Photographer: Jeff Busby.

To keep up with the latest news and reviews, like us on Facebook, or follow us on Twitter.