Sándor Zsótér is unpredictable. Only a short time has passed between his two performances: Arturo Ui in the Örkény Theatre is followed by Lorenzaccio in Maladype Theatre. However, both performances are built on the topic of tyranny, their style, form language and targeted viewers are totally different. Arturo Ui is the more different one between Zsótér’s performances of course: it is an unusually easily understandable one.

Lorenzaccio is a hard nut in contrast to it: if the viewers, who have not known the play before, lose their attention for a moment, they can easily lose the line of it. The line of the performance of course, not that other one, which they roll up, throw, hide or simply crochet from it - gloves, hat or conspiracy...but we will talk about it later - on the stage. So they can lose the line, as the performance has a very fast pace, not only because of the scenes and action telling, which are many times similarly to Brecht, just one line long and they come one after another very fast, and because of the actors’ often role changings, but because of the fast telling of the long and meaningful text too. This later one is hard for not only the viewers but the actors too: common tongue twisting show that the text comes before the thought – that way, without the previous knowledge of the text, for the viewers the text remains meaningless many times, and the chains of the story can remain in the shadow.

It can happen that way, that we do not have to understand the text – as it can be unimportant if the Medicis are tyrants, and the Strozzis support the republic, if the pope, czar or the king is good or not. Even more unimportant if Lorenzo Medici rebels for the rebellion, if he is the fake saviour, who kills the leader, and if the miserable Hamlet-like speaker would do it well to kill Alessandro Medici, to give the power to the people with it. The only important thing can be, that the people, expect for some students, do not want the power; for them it is unimportant, who is the leader, until the party is going on. It almost happens. In Zsótér’s reflector light we can see people: Filippo tells them “Do you know what republic is?”, and then Cosimo, who gets power over, tells as an ending part of his meaningless speech that: “Let’s have a party with me and my star guests!” – both can prove: the greatest tyrant is people’s stupidity and that they can be made stupid easily. Anyway, some punctual counted and direct sentences and gestures are not so powerful, so that they can be enough on their own: they are encoded similarly in the thick material of the performance as the other signs: some elements can be interpreted with the help of the others.

At the same time Zsótér makes sure to have entertainment too: we have fun us people have it in Firenze – even without the understanding of the happenings. Sometimes they tell the names in direct, incorrect Hungarian translations, the characters sometimes become funny cartoon figures, the actors make different grimaces, but what is the most important: that exact string appears again and again: they pull it out of the grass, they draw a dead body around with it, they roll it up, they crochet from it, mostly gloves. However, they have already had some of them: all the stage is covered by gloves, which are got dirty of blood or vine (it is interesting, that this part of the text cannot be heard on the stage), piles from the strings of gloves are there, one on the top of the others, on the chair, on the table, there are gloves on the wall, and Alessandro puts on a glove too (he has one for fight and for sex). From the gloves they make dresses, costume, dragon, prayer or finger-pointing hands, bed and tomb. The great amount of gloves is the crowd, the hundreds of thousands of hands of the king’s arm – but from a good king, not from Alessandro.

Yes, it is true. Alessandro Medici is a bad ruler but what is even worse: he is an impermanent person from flesh and blood. He has hearth, which is beating, it can be also felt, if we tear it from his body and hold it in our hand; he has also guts, which can be pulled out metre by metre, it is not easy but it is possible. Lorenzo managed to do it. By the sound of splashing blood and tearing guts he pulls out very long rubber gloves, under Alessandro’s dress, with extreme cruelty, we would tell it, however, Lorenzo is just one simple Renaissance man, he is interested in body and life: yes, it is true. He is Hamlet, but not because of the appearing ghost, or the big words, or the similar actions, but because of the recognition of the nothing of life.

Ákos Orosz, who is the only one between the actors, who has only one role, can introduce Lorenzaccio from different side, scenes by scenes. He gets from the determined matchmaker, through the silly clown of the court to the weak almost man, who loses his conscious because of the vision a sword, and then from this powerless ruined one, comes up the disillusioned patriot. He would fulfil his mission with the knowledge, that in Firenze the will not be anybody, who would accept his idea and go on with the fight for the republic. It is endless resignation, there is self- and world-irony in the tiny laugh which he makes, when he reads the note, which support him to kill, and marks him as a traitor.

Ádám Tompa’s Alessandro Medici is simply immature for the ruling: he is a womanizer in his twentieth, who believes himself immortal under the spell of his own power, and he believes that all moments of his life are eternal – his new tattoo is more interesting for him, than the loss of his chainmail, and even at the time of his killing, the pleasure of surprise is bigger than his pain. Cardinal Cibo, according to Tompa’s performance, violently licks his ideas into the marchioness’ ear – he knows that this is the only tool, he has: as a confessor, he cannot get close to her. Cosimo, the new ruler’s body is enormous – it is formed from gloves – only his voice is given by Tompa: on his silky, irritating nose-voice of popularity.

Zoltán Lendvánczky’s figures shows all endings of the wide scale of seriousness (and frivolity) – it is great that Caterina, almost silly, wild giggling do not make weaker Filippo Strozzi’s dignity. Kamilla Fátyol and Zsolt Páll are more memorable as very concentrated, static background live picture, than as episode characters. At the background wall of the narrow stage, in front of renaissance masterpieces they are rolling up their strings – but it is not understandable, why the picture do not do the same.

Júlia Ungár, the dramaturg, who does the translation too, makes a well hearable text, without any useless extras, she gives solid bodies for the sentences instead of excessive romanticism. She puts the wordplays and obscenities into the text that they do not push down violently their surroundings: the funny parts of the texts, do not kill the scenes.

Zsótér and the Maladype has met successfully. It is a shame that only a few dozen of viewers’ prepared and devoted part can enjoy it.

András Sztrókay, Ellenfény, 2009

(translated by: Veronika Fülöp)