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Beauty & the Beast Oxford Playhouse, |
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Performed by Teatro Kismet, a company hailing from Southern Italy, this production of Beauty and the Beast has a definite Italian flavour, presenting what could be a somewhat hackneyed fairy-tale with incredible energy and innovation. The Playhouse stage is transformed by three large cloths, framing the space in which the tale unfolds, and enabling the stunning light design to have its full effect. As the show opens, the stage is almost womb-like, and we see the lone Mirror (Filippo Ferrante), briefly tutored by the somewhat ethereal voice which controls much of the action. Demonstrating the talent for physical expression which all the company possess, he becomes the reflections of people fat, thin, shrivelled and more, until finally we see him portray Beauty against Beast. Only then, is the the story ready to move on. The action bursts into life with the entrance of Beauty (Nunzia Antonini) and, shortly after, the comic genius of her two sisters, (Lucia Zotti and Monica Contini). Severe and selfish, the sisters act almost as one person, occasionally breaking into high-speed Italian argument, much to the delight of the audience. Beauty's Father (Augusto Masiello) completes the family, looking every inch the perfect put-upon pater. The story is one all should be familiar with. The family are poor, and so the Father goes to seek their fortune, bringing each daughter back a gift. The two evil sisters desire jewels and sumptious clothing; Beauty asks only for a rose ("goody-goody", berate the sisters.) Yet her father accidentally picks it from the garden of the Beast who demands that either the Father return in seven days to be killed, or that one of his daughters come voluntarily in his place. Predictably, the loving Beauty makes her way, prefering to die with the Beast than from grief at the death of her Father. Here should be given mention to the frighteningly voiced Beast (Simone Desiato), who spends much of the show above ground, precariously suspended in a realm of levels and rope ladders, until in his final agonies he hurls himself across the audience. In a physically and emotionally demanding role he is superb, although, whilst the children in the audience seemed happy, he is not a beast for the faint hearted! The end of the story,
for those who do not know it, should perhaps not be ruined - suffice
it to say it is happy, eliciting smiles and rapturous applause. Written
by Teatro Kismet's own Teresa Ludovico, this version of Beauty and
the Beast is a visually stunning work, performed with great talent
and sensitivity. Continually entrancing, occasionally bizarre, always
beautiful - this production, held together with a wide variety of
music, brings this simple childhood tale into complex and captivating
reality. Rebecca Smith, 19.06.02 |
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