'The House of Bernarda Alba' originally written by Federico García Lorca and adapted for The National Theatre of Scotland by Rona Munro. Directed by John Tiffany with a female cast headed by Siobhan Redmond, Myra McFadyen, Jo Freer, Vanessa Johnson, Louise Ludgate, Una McLean, Julie Wilson Nimmo and Carmen Pieraccini. Set designed by Laura Hopkins, Sound by Paul Arditti and Lighting by Natasha Chivers. Performed at the Dundee Rep Theatre, 6th - 10th of October. Attended captioned performance on Thursday the 8th October, 7.30pm.
Set under the rain drenched roof top of a Clydonian apartment, 'The House of Bernarda Alba' bears little physical resemblance to the sun scorched lands of Lorca's Andalusian vision. John Tiffany has reset the rural domestic drama in a glossy new world of corruption and jealousy where the upholding of public image is crucial to survival.
After the gangland death of her second husband, the fiery matriarch Bernie retreats to her home and imposes a lock in on her daughters. The five girls fight against their mother’s oppression and compete for the affections of an absent male. The design of Bernie’s lair acts as the perfect metaphor for suppressed desire. Its bland and clinical interior reflects the denial of any individuality. The daughters are treated like the Royal Doulton, as fragile decorations that need to be separated from the flamboyant and liberated world exemplified by the nightclub below.
Siobhan Redmond successfully embodies the strength of the old fascist world in her role as wife and mother of Glasgow’s Mafia Glitterati. The fiery Spanish temperament translates with ease to the fast paced and guttural Glaswegian accent. Bernie’s unpredictable nature is comparable to the sensuous control of a flamenco dance that suddenly erupts and aggressively commands the floor.
Unfortunately the characterisation of the daughters is weak and underdeveloped. Julie Wilson Nimmo is given little to work with and plays Agnus as a wet blanket with a patronising ‘Balamory’ accent. Vanessa Johnson, as the youngest daughter, alienates the audience for the majority of the first act with her bratty and infantile approach to teenage life. There is no fire or attack to her tantrums and she struggles to flourish in the closing traumatic scenes. Tiffany’s direction is strongest when the entire cast share the stage. It is the accumulative presence of the women that form the heart of the play. Carmen Pieraccini and Lousie Ludgate in particular add their own dynamics to the script. They balance out the play’s volatile arguments with genuine moments of sibling affection.
Munro’s adaptation modernises the theme of privacy and reputation by using the media and press as an alternative metaphor for the prying neighbours of Andalucia. The result is a strange hybrid between a gritty kitchen sink drama and something found in the back of OK magazine. In the claustrophobic setting the characters laze about and are more worried about their physical appearance than their poor grandmother’s dementia. Munro has over simplified the narrative and in the process has diluted Lorca’s tragedy for the benefit of a modern audience. As Bernie replaces her Chanel sunglasses in the final scene and the family retreats back into the house I feel dismally indifferent to the girl’s plight for liberation.
Thankfully, Una McLean gives a tremendous performance as Bernie’s mother. She supplies a maturity and authenticity to the play that at times can feel cheapened by poorly timed moments of comedy and insincerity. Without Una’s striking speech about lost love and imprisonment, the play would feel more like a live soap opera.
Posts
