‘Festen’ part psychological thriller, part absurdist comedy
Now playing at The Gamm Theatre is “Festen,” an astonishing and brilliant theatrical production. The play’s title is Danish for “celebration,” but what we witness is multiple layers of revelation. The play is part psychological thriller, part dark absurdist comedy and above all a true tragedy in the classic and Aristotelian sense.
This is more than a powerhouse production of a great play. “Festen” represents why we go to plays in the first place, why theater matters and why the Greeks deemed the production of tragedy to be a holy thing.
The original intention and purpose of tragedy was to purge the soul; we witness these horrors in order to induce in ourselves a cleansing catharsis. This production provides that experience and then some; compressed within its two-hour time frame we experience the gamut of human emotion. Collectively we stand on the precipice, gazing into the darkest depths of the human soul. The invited guests at this celebration are also staring into this void, their features mirroring our own and comprising a silent Greek chorus, their reactions evolving through disbelief, indifference, despair and dismay. Yet ultimately and astonishingly, for all the ugliness unearthed, “Festen” ends on a hopeful, even life-affirming note.
The exact nature of the revealed horror is something that I am bound not to specify; The Gamm has wisely asked reviewers not to reveal important plot points, something I’d never do in any event anyway. Suffice it to say that at the very outset of the celebration of Helge’s 60th birthday, a celebration that will take place at a table groaning with scandal, we are well aware that something is seriously amiss here. At the beginning of the play a man, Christian (the excellent Steve Kidd) is alone, twin spotlights illuminating him and a small, enclosed room elsewhere. To say that Christian is troubled is putting it mildly; the man harbors an old and deep sorrow and his very soul seems clenched and stricken.
Additional precursors to the troubles that follow are provided at once. The arrival of his younger brother and family brings an abrupt change of mood, an undercurrent of casual brutality. The raucous and profane greeting Michael gives his older bother borders on assault and the aggressive atmosphere remains unmitigated upon the arrival of their younger sister, Helene. Ominous undertones lurk in the offing like prophecies of doom. Their father, we learn “is out shooting.” He announces upon his entrance that he has important matters to discuss, and this devolves quickly into a dirty joke. Something is seriously rotten in the state of this family dynamic.
All the strange and sinister aspects of this weird family dynamic are heightened by the direction of Tony Estrella. He captures perfectly the ebb and flow of suspense and release that is hidden under the surface. The fact that this celebration takes place in a home that’s always known pain, where “there have always been ghosts” is made plain by a brilliant set piece where the actions of the three siblings moving into three different guest quarters in their old home takes place simultaneously in one small raised platform space. It is as if we are watching the memories that the walls contain as a neat distillation of sex, violence and discovery. All the old furtive and forbidden action all unfolds again all at once and absolutely undiscovered.
What is most disturbing is how willingly and even cheerfully these horrid truths are ignored; a sight both hilarious and horrific is one party guest, after the beast has been released, steadily and greedily continuing to sup up the grub that’s been offered. Sometimes we acknowledge only what we can easily digest.
After the fatal revelation is revealed, a dreadful silence then ensues, excuses are made and the celebration — madly and crazily — continues its inexorable course toward a devastating crescendo. It is only then that a measure of healing can begin.
The emotional devastation unleashed seemingly has a physical effect on the acting ensemble and by extension upon us in the audience. Mr. Estrella does not so much direct his actors as conduct them and the sheer symphony of responses by a group of actively listening and responsive actors is a marvel to behold. There’s a point near the end when a simple toast is proposed. The ensemble turns as one toward this toastmaster and the sheer variety of reaction is enthralling. From my vantage point I caught the accusatory eye of Helge’s lodge mate Poul (Kerry Callery), a moment that, in its own quietly devastatingly way, was as powerful as anything I’ve ever witnessed in the theater.
Actors shine
The cast was uniformly excellent. Steve Kidd, who, as Christian, shoulders the burden of revelation here and is a thoroughly haunted, wounded presence, a man shaped and defined by all too palpable memory. Ever the dynamic actor, Mr. Kidd, even in his silences, makes his pain eminently eloquent.
As his brother Michael, the marvelous Alexander Platt excels in moving nimbly from the casually cruel to the truly aggrieved and a subtle and changeable brotherly symbiosis seems to flow effortlessly between him and Mr. Kidd. Casey Seymour Kim, as their sister Helene, plays off that dichotomy well and seems herself to radiate quietly, but furiously, with repression and muted rage.
Will Lyman is all icy stoicism as their father, Helge. He made for a formidable and frightening presence, all the more so for the cold and bottomless wellsprings of utter stillness he seems to contain in his soul, though I must confess to having had difficulty hearing him at times.
As their mother Else, Sandra Laub seems as tightly wound as a coiled cobra, one that would easily spit venom into your eye or ear.
This is a big cast and standouts, too many to mention in entirety, abound. Karen Carpenter is as ferociously maternal as a lioness as Michael’s wife, Mette. Tom Oakes (no relation) has a grand old time as the type of ribald Grandpa who is more amusing than at the dinner table. Kerry Callery is hilarious as the persnickety fussbudget Poul.
The play “Festen” was adapted for the stage by David Eldridge and is based on the award-winning Danish film, “The Celebration.” An unusual stating point for a play perhaps, but then the great tragedies of Sophocles and Shakespeare were adaptations, too. As with the great tragedies of antiquity, this is first and foremost a family story and the evils that men do have far more resonance for us when they occur at home. This play received the longest standing ovation that I have ever encountered, as well as the biggest nervous laugh when, in this highly dysfunctional family get-together, one character invites another to just “make yourself at home.” We are not as easily shocked as our Grecian forebears but our own modern tragedy is that the crimes against the innocent not only continue, but continue to be ignored in the midst of our own daily celebrations.
‘Festen’
WHERE: The Sandra Feinstein-Gamm Theatre, 172 Exchange St., Pawtucket
WHEN: Through Feb. 12; check website for show times
COST: $34 and $42 (depending on day and time),; discounts for subscribers, groups of 10 or more, seniors and students
MORE INFO: 401/723-4266 or www.gammtheatre.org
