Gerry Colgan reviews Woyzeck which is showing at the New Theatre in Dublin.
Georg Büchner's Woyzeck is a remarkable and seminal play. It was not produced until 1895, well after its German author's death, at the age of 24. Both it and the rest of his small output have the stamp of an aborted genius that has influenced world theatre.
The story is that of a poor soldier who, to support his mistress and their child, is forced to undertake the most menial duties. He is also being used as a guinea pig in a medical experiment, and the poverty and cruelty of his situation are slowly driving him mad. As a telling line from the play has it, he is going through the world like an open razor.
His woman is, meantime, being used as a sex object by a drum major, a strong attractive man who simply brushes Woyzeck aside, and he is eventually driven to insanity, murder and suicide. The starkest of dramas, written in an extraordinary prose, dense with imagery and irony, it is structured in a succession of short, crackling scenes.
This production, directed by Serena Brabazon, falls very short of being a serious exploration of the play's possibilities. Good acting starts on the inside and, fuelled by insights and interpretative talent, takes over the vocal and physical dynamics. Here the actors give superficial performances that verge on caricature. One minor character, a weapon-selling Jew, is played as an old cowboy with twangy voice and bandy legs; what was that about? The actors (Orlagh De Bhaldraithe, Stephen Fitzgibbon, Stephen Gunn, David McCorry and Rachel Rath) try hard, but they deliver a careful but arbitrary reading of the play that denies it its greatness.
Runs until Saturday
