Comedy of Comebacks: Bezrukov played a mannered aristocrat in The Marriage of Figaro
Moscow received two big theatrical premieres in one evening. While Yura Borisov was going crazy as Hamlet at the Moscow Art Theater, Sergei Bezrukov was trying on lace cuffs at the Moscow Provincial Theater, harassing maids, going out to the stalls and turning "The Marriage of Figaro" into one of the most temperamental performances of the season. The new production by Alla Reshetnikova turned out to be not a museum classic about the intrigues of the XVIII century, but a sarcastic comedy about people who believe that power gives the right to everything. Izvestia was one of the first to see the premiere with jokes about Kuzminki, luxurious decorations and a very unpleasant Count Almaviva performed by Bezrukov.
A crazy day for two prime ministers
"The Marriage of Figaro" is Sergei Bezrukov's first major acting premiere at MGT in five years, a return to Beaumarchais' play, which was once considered a harbinger of the French Revolution, and an attempt to re—explain to the viewer why the story of a servant and a dissolute aristocrat still sounds frighteningly modern.
The performance is dedicated to the centenary of Konstantin Stanislavsky's legendary 1927 production. Then Nikolai Batalov, Yuri Zavadsky, Angelina Stepanova and Olga Androvskaya appeared on the stage of the Moscow Art Theater. Theatergoers still remember the performance of Valentin Pluchek at the Satire Theater with Andrei Mironov, Alexander Shirvindt, Vera Vasilyeva, Nina Kornienko and Tatiana Peltzer. And also — the version of Konstantin Bogomolov in "Tabakerka", where Oleg Tabakov played Count Almaviva, and the young Sergey Bezrukov played Figaro.
Almost two decades have passed since that production, and now Bezrukov has switched characters. The former Figaro became Almaviva, the man he had once rebelled against.
The new version was directed by Alla Reshetnikova, who is already working in the Provincial Theater for the 15th time. The cast includes Stepan Kulikov, Natalia Shklyaruk, Galina Bokashevskaya, Leonid Gromov, Oleg Savostyuk, Kirill Novyshev, Sofia Lopunova and Alexandra Kulbarisova.
At the same time, Reshetnikova is not trying to turn Beaumarchais into a political pamphlet or a radical experiment. On the contrary, the creators consciously move away from straightforward allusions and the fashionable desire to "modernize the classics" at any cost.
— The story is that the privileged class should not be arrogant and perceive people as "third class". Luxury, permissiveness, depravity, narcissism, vanity — these are the vices that create the greatest gap between people. The play was relevant at all times. In the Soviet years, it was put up as a warning about the consequences of class inequality. And now, too, there is a class that has eaten up," Bezrukov told Izvestia.
Predator-aristocrat and jokes about Kuzminki
Figaro, performed by Stepan Kulikov, is no longer a young rogue or a shifty servant from classical productions. This is an adult man who is tired of having to constantly fight for the right to respect.
— He doesn't want to run, he's not an errand boy anymore. But I have to — for the last time," Bezrukov explains.
This is what makes the local Figaro particularly convincing. He is not a revolutionary or a rebel. He just wants to preserve his dignity, marry the woman he loves and stop living by the rules of people who consider others their property.
Against this background, Sergey Bezrukov looks especially organic. His Almaviva is not a caricature villain, but a dangerous, charming and absolutely confident man in his own impunity. Outwardly— he is an ideal aristocrat with impeccable, but somewhat exaggerated manners. In fact, he is a spoiled predator, accustomed to getting whatever he wants.
The count's hands are constantly reaching for other people's lace skirts, and behind his soft intonations and simpering politeness lies a cold calculation. Almaviva here resembles a man who sincerely considers others to be a part of his interior: if he wanted to, he brought them closer, if he got bored, he threw them away.
That is why the countess, played by Natalia Shklyaruk, looks especially tragic. Despite the comedic nature of the play, the actress plays a woman who is internally devastated and deprived of freedom.
— Surprisingly, this was the most difficult thing for me. I didn't know how to play a man completely deprived of freedom," Shklyaruk confessed to reporters before the premiere.
At the same time, the performance does not descend into a dark drama. On the contrary, there is a lot of lightness, humor and constant flirtation with the audience in the production. The characters regularly break the "fourth wall": they advise the public to "first read The Barber of Seville" in order to understand the backstory, or throw remarks like: "I'm going to London — this is not Kuzminki."
These intonations work surprisingly accurately. Beaumarchais' comedy suddenly ceases to be a museum exhibit and begins to sound like a living story taking place here and now.
The audience reacts especially violently to the appearance of Bezrukov himself. At some point, the actor goes straight to the audience in the central part of the stalls - and this will surely become one of the most discussed episodes of the play. Judging by the reaction of the audience at the press screening, some of the audience at this moment forgets about Beaumarchais and the French Revolution.
Visually, the performance looks really luxurious. Production designer Andrey Klimov abandoned the literal reconstruction of the 18th century, but retained the atmosphere of Baroque theatricality. On stage, water gurgles in a fountain, a giant platter with a portrait of Count Almaviva passes through the playground, the characters descend through satin powder ribbons from a female corset, and the tapestry backdrop changes the mood along with the characters - from almost pastoral to disturbing and bloodthirsty.
Anna Gilunova's choreography adds the southern Spanish temperament to the action. The crowd scenes are set up as if the actors are constantly inside a large carnival that is about to get out of control.
At the same time, the play maintains a balance between a sitcom and a serious conversation about power, money and the human right to remain oneself.
This seems to be the main success of the new "Marriage of Figaro". The Provincial Theater did not turn Beaumarchais into either a boring classic or an aggressive modern statement. Instead, it turned out to be a lively, spectator-like and collected performance about people who are desperately trying to maintain dignity in a world where everything has been bought and sold for a long time. And judging by the reaction of the audience after the final bow, this "crazy day" for the production is just beginning.
Переведено сервисом «Яндекс Переводчик»
