Globe to Globe: Henry VI

Vec dugo pratim sjajne tekstove mladog nezavisnog umjetnika , pisca, novinara i feljtoniste, gospodina Igora Toronyi-Lalica, sina mojih dragih prijatelja ;Sonje i Lale iz Londona,… pa evo da ga i vi upoznate kroz ovaj nadahnuti tekst.

Globe to Globe: Henry VI, Parts 1, 2 and 3, Shakespeare’s Globe
A slick Serb Part 1, an effective Macedonian Part 3 and a very very Albanian Albanian Part 2

by Igor Toronyi-Lalic Monday, 14 May 2012

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The National Theatre of Belgrade, Henry VI, Part 1: ‘On stage throughout, the troupe slipped and slid from one scene to the other with a virtuosic fluency’
Marc Brenner
There was always going to be one Borat moment in this festival. And it came courtesy of the Albanians, who, for comic effect, in the middle of their Henry VI, Part 2, indulged in some gratuitous harrassment of a mentally handicapped person. It got the biggest laugh of the show from the expats, suggesting it’s still quite a rib-tickler, disabled bashing, in Albanian culture. It was an instructive reminder that you invite the globe to the Globe at your moral peril.
The other parts of the warring Henry VI trilogy were being presented by two more Balkan countries: a Serbian Part 1 and Macedonian Part 3. Albania, Serbia and Macedonia: the only Balkan countries that haven’t yet gone to war with each other. Still, they’ve all had their fair share of troubles over the past two decades. So it was strange that the only production that seemed to engage with this past (however subtly) were the Serbs. They referenced old nationalist songs, invested a round table with the status of a disintegrating body politic and delivered the political machinations that sees implacable foes in bear-hug embraces with a brilliant, dry, dark humour.
Martin Mirchevski’s short, limping Richard had a fantastic what-did-you-expect-of-me look as he dispatched his rivals
As one of the oldest theatre companies of the region and hailing from one of the most sophisticated city cultures in the whole of Eastern Europe, the National Theatre of Belgrade unsurprisingly also delivered the slickest and most inventive production of the three. The ensemble acting was magnificent. On stage throughout, the troupe slipped and slid from one scene to the other with a virtuosic fluency. Not easy when you have so many characters and battles and, to be honest, a plot that doesn’t show off Shakespeare at his best.
Then again, it strikes me that the less well-regarded the play the more fun us English tourists (my second-generation Serbo-Croat only got me so far) are likely to have at this Shakespeare festival. Shakespeare in English is least fun when it’s in full battle mode. But when language is not in play, it is these non-verbal elements – the battles, the slapstick – that make the Globe to Globe productions manageable and decipherable. Aminated with a tremendous, physical, story-telling skill by the Serbs, the character-jammed, battle-fuelled, screed-clogged Part 1 became the easiest to follow and enjoy.
It was good to see national stereotypes being adhered to throughout. The Serbs excelled at arguing and fighting and holding grudges. The Albanians were exceptionally Albanian, delivering outstanding moustaches, a superlative pirate and an array of esoteric costumes that either sourced the kingdoms of the ancients or the lands of the gimp. The Macedonians did a fine line in wailing and baggy trousers.
After the Serbs, the Macedonians also offered the most interest theatrically. They had the richer play and their actors rose to the task superbly. Martin Mirchevski’s short, limping Richard (soon to be III) had a fantastic what-did-you-expect-of-me look as he dispatched his rivals, and was never less than brilliant when periodically whipping himself up into a Mussolini-like lather. The direction from Californian John Blondell was crude but effective.
Slow-motioning was the order of the day. The Balkans are clearly very fond of that effect. It was interesting to see the progress of Henry VI as he wound his way through the Balkans: conceited in Serbian, conflicted in Albanian and finally mad in Macedonian. It was also interesting to watch the development of the female sex through these three male-dominated plays. In Part 1, the only woman, Joan of Arc, is but a cipher. By Part 3 the woman are running the place, the Macedonian National Theatre of Bitola adding to this impression by changing Warwick’s sex.
All in all, an intriguing day. One inevitably yearned to understand more. Especially when the acting in the Serbian and Macedonian productions were at their peak and the verbal resonances began to excite those native speakers around us. But mostly I was left wondering whether anyone had told the Albanian National Theatre that this wasn’t Eurovision.