Give them what they need. A scene from from Saint Joan of the Slaughterhouses.Slaughterdogma for dollars
By Ed Rampell
How can an artist possibly make financial disasters entertaining, and even laughable? Leave it to the 20th century’s top playwright, Bertolt Brecht to answer the questoin. Pacific Resident Theatre’s must see brilliant production of Brecht’s Saint Joan of the Slaughterhouses is as timely today as it was in 1930, when Brecht first wrote this social satire shortly after the stock market crash launched the Great Depression.
The first one, that is, as Brecht’s parable about economic shenanigans and hooligans in Chicago’s meatpacking industry is even more applicable to our contemporary crises and fiscal fiascos triggered by greedy bankers, insurers, realtors and the whole global schmeer of capitalist pigs. Like the slaughterhouse machine that systematically slices and dices hogs, as rhapsodically described by Cridle (played by the seductive Robin Becker), with his barbed wit, Brecht exposes the inner workings of the unregulated free enterprise system, which is free to inflict misery on the masses in the pursuit of and in the name of the almighty buck.
Enter stage left into this class struggle religious crusaders known as the Warriors of God (the zealots’ acronym is a British pejorative for non-white Third Worlders) led by Joan Dark (a play on the French pronunciation of Joan of Arc). Joan tries to redeem the rabble, rebels and royalty of the stockyards through Christianity. Brecht’s titular character, who is superbly portrayed by Dalia Vosylius in a stellar performance, seems influenced by not only France’s Joan of Arc, but also by George Bernard Shaw’s Salvation Army leader Barbara Undershaft in his 1905 satire Major Barbara. (Sergeant Sarah Brown of the 1950 musical Guys and Dolls, which is currently being reprised on Broadway, can trace her theatrical provenance to Brecht’s Saint Joan of the Slaughterhouses and Shaw’s Major Barbara.)
In addition to ruthlessly mocking and exposing the capitalist system, Brecht also critiques religion as the opiate of the masses – and the balm of the bourgeoisie – in Saint Joan of the Slaughterhouses. The playwright reveals how the ruling class exploits faith to trick the workers, just as Thomas Frank does in his 2004 book. What’s the Matter With Kansas? God is cynically used to take the people’s eyes off of the class warfare ball by filling their heads with pie in the sky illusions and delusions. During the course of the play our gal Joan undergoes an inner struggle as she comes to an awareness of this, and how she has been used by stockyards robber baron Pierpont Mauler (played by a dapper Andrew Parks).
Along the route of Brecht’s raucous romp, characters speak of general strikes, unions and communism – talk that we can never quite get enough of during our troubled times. There are also scintillating performances by this energetic ensemble deftly directed by Michael Rothhaarr. Norman Scott as the menacing toothpick chewing thug Sullivan Slift has a death’s head reminiscent of the Grim Reaper in Ingmar Bergman’s 1957 film, The Seventh Seal. With her over the top sexuality that mingles an obsession with machinery, money and libido, Becker is a hoot as the capitalist Cridle, who’d be right at home as a waitress at Hooters. Daniel Riordan’s Graham sports a sort of bowler hat and cane with a Mack the Knife panache, which is appropriate, as Brecht’s Macheath was the dramatist’s symbol of predatory capitalism. Since property, as the anarchist Pierre-Joseph Proudhon observed, is theft, it should be duly noted that with her virtuoso performance as the title character, Vosylius steals this show.
Another honorable mention should go to Norman Scott who, in addition to playing ghoulish henchmen, is the set and lighting designer for Saint Joan of the Slaughterhouses. His innovation of introducing puppet-type creations expands the mise-en-scene of this mass spectacle, which also uses a grating chainlike device and noise for scenic transitions. This, of course, is in keeping with Brecht’s notion of a theatre of “alienation” – the jarring sound snaps one out of the typical reverie of watching a bourgeois drama through the proverbial fourth wall. Rather than merely emote, Brecht wants audiences to think about his dramas and their messages, and the irritating noise serves to remind viewers that they are not watching real life, but rather a play – which they should think about, in order to change the real world.
Since this is a play about capitalist crimes, it should be mentioned that it's sort of “criminal” for such a great play about big business to be performed in such a small theatre space. Michael Rothhaar’s Saint Joan of the Slaughterhouses is such a first rate production that it deserves to be presented in a far larger venue for a bigger audience. But until the Ahmanson or Broadway pick it up, Brecht’s Saint Joan of the Slaughterhouses will be featured at the Pacific Resident Theatre’s 30ish seat Co-Op space at 707 Venice Blvd. on Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays at 8 pm, and Sundays at 3 pm, through Aug. 9.
How can an artist possibly make financial disasters entertaining, and even laughable? Leave it to the 20th century’s top playwright, Bertolt Brecht to answer the questoin. Pacific Resident Theatre’s must see brilliant production of Brecht’s Saint Joan of the Slaughterhouses is as timely today as it was in 1930, when Brecht first wrote this social satire shortly after the stock market crash launched the Great Depression.
The first one, that is, as Brecht’s parable about economic shenanigans and hooligans in Chicago’s meatpacking industry is even more applicable to our contemporary crises and fiscal fiascos triggered by greedy bankers, insurers, realtors and the whole global schmeer of capitalist pigs. Like the slaughterhouse machine that systematically slices and dices hogs, as rhapsodically described by Cridle (played by the seductive Robin Becker), with his barbed wit, Brecht exposes the inner workings of the unregulated free enterprise system, which is free to inflict misery on the masses in the pursuit of and in the name of the almighty buck.
Enter stage left into this class struggle religious crusaders known as the Warriors of God (the zealots’ acronym is a British pejorative for non-white Third Worlders) led by Joan Dark (a play on the French pronunciation of Joan of Arc). Joan tries to redeem the rabble, rebels and royalty of the stockyards through Christianity. Brecht’s titular character, who is superbly portrayed by Dalia Vosylius in a stellar performance, seems influenced by not only France’s Joan of Arc, but also by George Bernard Shaw’s Salvation Army leader Barbara Undershaft in his 1905 satire Major Barbara. (Sergeant Sarah Brown of the 1950 musical Guys and Dolls, which is currently being reprised on Broadway, can trace her theatrical provenance to Brecht’s Saint Joan of the Slaughterhouses and Shaw’s Major Barbara.)
In addition to ruthlessly mocking and exposing the capitalist system, Brecht also critiques religion as the opiate of the masses – and the balm of the bourgeoisie – in Saint Joan of the Slaughterhouses. The playwright reveals how the ruling class exploits faith to trick the workers, just as Thomas Frank does in his 2004 book. What’s the Matter With Kansas? God is cynically used to take the people’s eyes off of the class warfare ball by filling their heads with pie in the sky illusions and delusions. During the course of the play our gal Joan undergoes an inner struggle as she comes to an awareness of this, and how she has been used by stockyards robber baron Pierpont Mauler (played by a dapper Andrew Parks).
Along the route of Brecht’s raucous romp, characters speak of general strikes, unions and communism – talk that we can never quite get enough of during our troubled times. There are also scintillating performances by this energetic ensemble deftly directed by Michael Rothhaarr. Norman Scott as the menacing toothpick chewing thug Sullivan Slift has a death’s head reminiscent of the Grim Reaper in Ingmar Bergman’s 1957 film, The Seventh Seal. With her over the top sexuality that mingles an obsession with machinery, money and libido, Becker is a hoot as the capitalist Cridle, who’d be right at home as a waitress at Hooters. Daniel Riordan’s Graham sports a sort of bowler hat and cane with a Mack the Knife panache, which is appropriate, as Brecht’s Macheath was the dramatist’s symbol of predatory capitalism. Since property, as the anarchist Pierre-Joseph Proudhon observed, is theft, it should be duly noted that with her virtuoso performance as the title character, Vosylius steals this show.
Another honorable mention should go to Norman Scott who, in addition to playing ghoulish henchmen, is the set and lighting designer for Saint Joan of the Slaughterhouses. His innovation of introducing puppet-type creations expands the mise-en-scene of this mass spectacle, which also uses a grating chainlike device and noise for scenic transitions. This, of course, is in keeping with Brecht’s notion of a theatre of “alienation” – the jarring sound snaps one out of the typical reverie of watching a bourgeois drama through the proverbial fourth wall. Rather than merely emote, Brecht wants audiences to think about his dramas and their messages, and the irritating noise serves to remind viewers that they are not watching real life, but rather a play – which they should think about, in order to change the real world.
Since this is a play about capitalist crimes, it should be mentioned that it's sort of “criminal” for such a great play about big business to be performed in such a small theatre space. Michael Rothhaar’s Saint Joan of the Slaughterhouses is such a first rate production that it deserves to be presented in a far larger venue for a bigger audience. But until the Ahmanson or Broadway pick it up, Brecht’s Saint Joan of the Slaughterhouses will be featured at the Pacific Resident Theatre’s 30ish seat Co-Op space at 707 Venice Blvd. on Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays at 8 pm, and Sundays at 3 pm, through Aug. 9.
