Tamás Tarján: Do you get it, take it, want it?
The changing ups do not have any quality in reality: in reality, it all depends not on the body shape, the length of their hair, their dresses in Pierre-Augustin Caron de Beaumarchais’ comedy, which has been alive for two hundred twenty-six years, but on the quality of souls, the hopes, which are spoken in and desires. On the self-deception and the usual automatism of practice of cheating and cheating-back. The cover of the stories, from our point of view, especially towards the end, is not comedy-like but farce-like. On the Base of Maladype, the actors of the troupe can reflect continuously with open or partly hidden smile, with astonishment, on what they get into. Those many comments aside, and sentences, which are changed into comments, can rise and ironize the distance, which can appear unavoidable between the viewers and the sight, even in the intimacy of a flat theatre, which can accept fifty viewers altogether.
What do they get into? Figaro would (will) have a wedding today, but his master, and helper, Count Almaviva would also like to get for himself Suzanne’s innocence. As the count himself, the ruler with administrative and judicial power, deleted the “ius primae noctis”, he should circumvent in a cleverer way, the advancing world and get back to the feudal rules. The first night, one night, many nights of a so-called marriage: more then half of the characters would like to fulfil that their desire, which is said to be love, their real love, and their emotional and sensual illusions anyway. According to the rules of the genre, the most graceful ones can get out of the confusion the most luckily, but the more sinful souls have also nothing to complain about. As later Marceline, the old lady, who notices her own lost son, Figaro with desire, and later becomes a perfect mother and mother-in-low sums it up: her heart does not cheat her, just misses the destination.
The actors works cheerfully and powerfully. The paler parts, which are full of speech, they can drive on with tempo, while they move the more colourful, interesting, effective scenes in slower and nicer rhythm. They put on themselves Mari Benedek’s gipsy-like Andalusian costumes: the main character’s little bit sun-red dress can be noticed between the half circle of blacks, burnt by the south, cloudy white ones. The place, Mária Ambrus’ set is just as much as it is allowed by the prologue, as it is measured for some dozens of square metres: the paths are in the form of a cross, the leaving doors, it is lengthened towards the connection of other rooms, and by the sides of the square formed by the four walls, so many times behind the (some parts of the) viewers, and sometimes an armchair is added to it. (This Iberian-like all windows and doors place, would not accept much more, it a room with its own set, and it is heated by a beautiful tile stove.) Zsótér takes care of all of these, but with a punctual score, he makes even the cheerful interpretation, in more meditative events sharper short monologues and the most meaningful dialogues. We do not have to take anything very seriously, because it would ruin the more serious replies. Chérubin can do, what else can he do, then that during his catching escaping, jumps not onto the melon gardens, from the first floor (Kálmán Mikszáth Square), but first onto the ledge of the opened window, then after a little bit of hesitation back to the room. He hides on the floor (the stepped melon garden grow geranium-like violets, as we can hear and experience it).
The tousled crested haired Ákos Orosz is a badass, comedy hero, and soon makes us believe everything of the well-built young man: Figaro, by the age of thirty has become a barber, a vet student, play writer, newspaper establisher, banker of a card game place, with the experiences of his past, he knows the not rosy life with capital letters. Orosz is always in the good place at the good time, in the performance with tight usage of place, which main mover is Erika Tankó’s Suzanne, anyway. The play, which is more on the side of women, can reflect well and its language powers, her temperament, and the maid’s, who is cleverer than her bridegroom, straight and brave life-affirmation can reflect the more vividly. Ádám Tompa, as Figaro’s employer, puts even more frailty than the returning lessons, on Almaviva, who is stuck on the zero point of his power. Judit Kovács Ligeti, in the role of Suzanne’s friend and lady, has dramatic steps and graceful style. She seems to show a parody of Juli Básti during the evening, which is not far from caricatures, sometimes accidental but not covered by pure lightness.
Kamilla Fátyol (Fanchette, Antonio’s daughter) can have deals, where nothing can be too expensive, in the confused story. Zoltán Lendváczky appears in little bit thin clichés of comedies (Antonio, the drunken gardener, Bazile, the cembalo teacher, Don Believer Silly Girl, stand-in character), Zénó Faragó is Chérubin the heart-shorty, very tall man, he has dude face, and then changed by the slow acting philosopher. Zsolt Páll, who is made of one block, can be felt grey even in black, because Mari Törőcsik, the guest star, is his partner. Törőcsik, who has performed Marceline before, is excellent, even if, she is not a hundred percent excellent. Sometimes, she is too loud, the wall can hardly collapse, the others have different articulations. And she has too, in her wonderful, clever silences: as in other minutes she takes the character into a hundred and thirty percent, she can also grimaces because of her left alone self, in connection with her old and new aims (finally marriage; new family) an old lady, who gets enthusiastic. Törőcsik is unique in everything, which is called, without any better option, the Hungarian mental life of our present, together with all her connected. She is the most respectable member of Róbert Alföldi’s National Theatre, who performs a main role even in the County Hungarian Drama Theatre of Transcarpathia, staged by Attila Vidnyászky (The boy, who turned into a deer – exhibition from the gate of secrets; they would have a guest performance in Bárka Theatre on 13. January). And now she gives some of her talent to Zoltán Balázs’ Maladype Theatre. Three company, which have radically different style, worldview and members; and Mari Törőcsik can feel herself at home, in all of them. How can do it after her?
The classical play always writes itself in the present, sometimes very sharply. Júlia Ungár, the dramaturg’s translation is ready for the classical style, in which she can place without any problem, if necessary, the obvious, informal phrases of our everyday life. The most important parts, now not similarly to Brecht, but with emphasized frames ask for our attention in Zsótér’s staging. We can hear the frightening ideas of gradation, according to which: Do you get it, take it or want it? And it is not accidentally, that Figaro, who gets into the final harbour of marriage with a triple amount of portion, by the success of the cunning fights for Suzanne, accepting some rightful respect, emphasizes finally: let my wife and wealth alone.
Tamás Tarján, Kultúra.hu, 2010
(translated by: Veronika Fülöp)
What do they get into? Figaro would (will) have a wedding today, but his master, and helper, Count Almaviva would also like to get for himself Suzanne’s innocence. As the count himself, the ruler with administrative and judicial power, deleted the “ius primae noctis”, he should circumvent in a cleverer way, the advancing world and get back to the feudal rules. The first night, one night, many nights of a so-called marriage: more then half of the characters would like to fulfil that their desire, which is said to be love, their real love, and their emotional and sensual illusions anyway. According to the rules of the genre, the most graceful ones can get out of the confusion the most luckily, but the more sinful souls have also nothing to complain about. As later Marceline, the old lady, who notices her own lost son, Figaro with desire, and later becomes a perfect mother and mother-in-low sums it up: her heart does not cheat her, just misses the destination.
The actors works cheerfully and powerfully. The paler parts, which are full of speech, they can drive on with tempo, while they move the more colourful, interesting, effective scenes in slower and nicer rhythm. They put on themselves Mari Benedek’s gipsy-like Andalusian costumes: the main character’s little bit sun-red dress can be noticed between the half circle of blacks, burnt by the south, cloudy white ones. The place, Mária Ambrus’ set is just as much as it is allowed by the prologue, as it is measured for some dozens of square metres: the paths are in the form of a cross, the leaving doors, it is lengthened towards the connection of other rooms, and by the sides of the square formed by the four walls, so many times behind the (some parts of the) viewers, and sometimes an armchair is added to it. (This Iberian-like all windows and doors place, would not accept much more, it a room with its own set, and it is heated by a beautiful tile stove.) Zsótér takes care of all of these, but with a punctual score, he makes even the cheerful interpretation, in more meditative events sharper short monologues and the most meaningful dialogues. We do not have to take anything very seriously, because it would ruin the more serious replies. Chérubin can do, what else can he do, then that during his catching escaping, jumps not onto the melon gardens, from the first floor (Kálmán Mikszáth Square), but first onto the ledge of the opened window, then after a little bit of hesitation back to the room. He hides on the floor (the stepped melon garden grow geranium-like violets, as we can hear and experience it).
The tousled crested haired Ákos Orosz is a badass, comedy hero, and soon makes us believe everything of the well-built young man: Figaro, by the age of thirty has become a barber, a vet student, play writer, newspaper establisher, banker of a card game place, with the experiences of his past, he knows the not rosy life with capital letters. Orosz is always in the good place at the good time, in the performance with tight usage of place, which main mover is Erika Tankó’s Suzanne, anyway. The play, which is more on the side of women, can reflect well and its language powers, her temperament, and the maid’s, who is cleverer than her bridegroom, straight and brave life-affirmation can reflect the more vividly. Ádám Tompa, as Figaro’s employer, puts even more frailty than the returning lessons, on Almaviva, who is stuck on the zero point of his power. Judit Kovács Ligeti, in the role of Suzanne’s friend and lady, has dramatic steps and graceful style. She seems to show a parody of Juli Básti during the evening, which is not far from caricatures, sometimes accidental but not covered by pure lightness.
Kamilla Fátyol (Fanchette, Antonio’s daughter) can have deals, where nothing can be too expensive, in the confused story. Zoltán Lendváczky appears in little bit thin clichés of comedies (Antonio, the drunken gardener, Bazile, the cembalo teacher, Don Believer Silly Girl, stand-in character), Zénó Faragó is Chérubin the heart-shorty, very tall man, he has dude face, and then changed by the slow acting philosopher. Zsolt Páll, who is made of one block, can be felt grey even in black, because Mari Törőcsik, the guest star, is his partner. Törőcsik, who has performed Marceline before, is excellent, even if, she is not a hundred percent excellent. Sometimes, she is too loud, the wall can hardly collapse, the others have different articulations. And she has too, in her wonderful, clever silences: as in other minutes she takes the character into a hundred and thirty percent, she can also grimaces because of her left alone self, in connection with her old and new aims (finally marriage; new family) an old lady, who gets enthusiastic. Törőcsik is unique in everything, which is called, without any better option, the Hungarian mental life of our present, together with all her connected. She is the most respectable member of Róbert Alföldi’s National Theatre, who performs a main role even in the County Hungarian Drama Theatre of Transcarpathia, staged by Attila Vidnyászky (The boy, who turned into a deer – exhibition from the gate of secrets; they would have a guest performance in Bárka Theatre on 13. January). And now she gives some of her talent to Zoltán Balázs’ Maladype Theatre. Three company, which have radically different style, worldview and members; and Mari Törőcsik can feel herself at home, in all of them. How can do it after her?
The classical play always writes itself in the present, sometimes very sharply. Júlia Ungár, the dramaturg’s translation is ready for the classical style, in which she can place without any problem, if necessary, the obvious, informal phrases of our everyday life. The most important parts, now not similarly to Brecht, but with emphasized frames ask for our attention in Zsótér’s staging. We can hear the frightening ideas of gradation, according to which: Do you get it, take it or want it? And it is not accidentally, that Figaro, who gets into the final harbour of marriage with a triple amount of portion, by the success of the cunning fights for Suzanne, accepting some rightful respect, emphasizes finally: let my wife and wealth alone.
Tamás Tarján, Kultúra.hu, 2010
(translated by: Veronika Fülöp)