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Latest items? Unedited? Fringe Report Uncut
I'm A Fool To Want You
Verdict: Cinema can kill
London - Battersea Arts Centre - 20:00 (21:25) - Tues 15 – Sun 20 Mar 05
Originally performed last year at BAC by the celebrated Told by an Idiot, I’m a fool to want you is a 75-minute meditation inspired by the French novelist, poet, jazz musician, surrealist and absurdist, Boris Vian who died in 1959 in a Parisian cinema.
Suffering from a heart condition, the author of I Spit On Your Graves was watching a poor adaptation of his own cult
novel - which resulted in him shouting angrily at the screen for much of the time - when he died from a heart attack at the ripe old age of 39.
This, however, for Paul Hunter who conceived and directed the piece was only the starting point. Rather than a 'bio-drama' of Vian's life, the end product is an episodic narrative of memory spiralling out from the moment of Vian's death.
The set, by Naomi Wilkinson, is an effective wooden backcloth, which acts as
both chalk-board and cinema screen. There's similar wooden floor panelling inhabited by six chairs, three of which hang at various heights on the adjacent wall. There's a piano, which is wheeled around the performance space as if to view the action of the two actors - Hayley Carmichael and Stephen Harper - and trumpet player Adrain Williams Longo. This device is also useful in adding clear focus to the pianist - Zoe Rahman - who also composed and performs the music live.
Given that Vian was obsessed by jazz and wanting to play the jazz trumpet - often hanging out with the likes of Miles Davis in the late 50s - the synthesis of jazz, improvisation and dance plays an integral part in this physical devised piece.
Effortlessly combining roles of lover, mother and usherette, Hayley Carmichael, a petite and enigmatic performer, relishes the comic physicality her characters exude. As Vian, Stephen Harper – who, the programmes notes are keen to point out, is from Billingham, adding helpfully 'a small industrial town in the North East of England' – plays out his character with a declamatory style, primary physical gestures, and yes, a northern accent.
There are wonderful comic moments between the two actors, particularly during the distorted recollections of mother and the infant Vian, the hilarious dance craze sequence and grotesque tennis match, but often their relationship denies the
erotic nature in favour of the comic.
Adrain Williams Longo plays Vian's imaginary black son, without text, only the universal language of music. For Vian, black culture was at the heart of jazz, and the company successfully achieve the failure of a white Frenchman wanting to be a New Orleans style trumpeter.
Zoe Rahman beautifully respects the actors. Her music is sensual but too often dominates. Her exquisite facial gestures as the 'barber', however, support, enhance and provide the key to the central action - providing echoes of Duke Ellington and Charlie Parker.
The result is a Kafkaesque trial, peppered with silent-movie imagery, live and recorded music and heightened physical gesture - determined by Vian himself. His ultimate aim was to communicate the power of language; to present an imaginary world more real than the drab day-to-day existence of ordinary life.
The company creates an inviting world of the absurd where the unexpected becomes seemingly normal. Sadly, for Vian, however, as Louis Malle remarked, 'I thought Vian died of shame from seeing what they had done to his book. Like anything else, cinema can kill!'
Cast Credits: Boris Vian – Stephen Harper. Ursula Gruber, Boris's Mother, Usherette – Hayley Carmichael. Sonny Vian – Adrain Williams Longo. Barber – Zoe Rahman.
Company Credits: Conceived and directed by Paul Hunter and the Company. Live music composed and directed and performed by Zoe Rahman. Trumpet improvisations – Adrain Williams Longo. Designed - Naomi Wilkinson. Lighting – John MacKenzie. Recorded Sound Designer – Niall Black. Commissioned by BAC.
END
(c) Mike Miller 2005
Reviewed Wednesday 16 March 2005
Fringe Report (c) Fringe Report 2002-2012
www.fringereport.com