R angayana, Mysore, opened its annual theatre festival Bahuroopi on January 13. The festival that brings in some of the finest theatre from national and international scene, started on a sad note, what with the sudden demise of the talented actor of Rangayana, Manjunath Belekere and Om Puri, who was supposed to inaugurate the festival.
The inaugural play was Chitralekhe , a Kannada pastiche of the opera, scripted and directed by Suresh Anagalli.The story had for its plot a folk story woven around a folk ritual dealing with notions of love, non-violence and freedom.
If the heroines of fertility cult don’t apparently resist marriage, Chitralekhe, due to her past, detests consummation. To avoid marriage, and also avenge her anger against men, she construes three riddles that her suitor has to decipher. When the condition of her ‘Nerala Rajya’, turns from bad to worse, the stranger appears, cracks the riddles and challenges the queen to find his name. In the end, it is very obvious that she falls for his words and succumbs to his love!
The play’s successful dramatization is hidden in the director’s ability to assimilate different aspects. In terms of setting, music, costumes and characters’ portrayal, the director carefully chooses the worn out stereotypes and ingeniously assimilates them to create a vibrant spectacle. The static segment of the setting consists of two slide doors painted in black and white. It opens only to introduce the beautiful, intelligent and ‘wronged’ Chitralekhe. The props like the red screen that indicates bloodshed, toys that symbolize the infants’ death, the bell that the suitor has to ring to attract the queen’s attention, and the moving citadel that carries Chitralekhe’s ministers (dressed in the traditional Chinese attire) not only add to the spectacle but represent the different aspects of fertility myth.
The repertory’s stellar cast seems to have no parallel in Karnataka. As Chitralekhe involves bizarre outfits, dialogues interspersed with quartets and a lot of physical movements, the play is a challenge to any actor. Hulugappa Kattimani (the stranger), Pramila Bengre (the ‘wronged’ queen) and the rest brave these challenges and perform with equal ease.
The play required the presence of many actors on stage and hence, the lightning is used only to indicate the actors’ movements. A jazz track played along with a folk tune intensified the violent scenes of the play.
Chitralekhe is a visual experience that also has its shades of greyness. While rendering the omnipresent themes, the play unapologetically reflects the patriarchal ideas of the fertility cult. The queen channelizes her wronged past to her citizens through violence.
Ramu Ramanathan’s English play The Boy Who Stopped Smiling is a significant contribution to the domain of literature and performances for children. In this year’s Bahuroopi, Mumbai’s Working Title’s production The Boy... was a welcoming change as it had the elders playing children’s roles. In one of his interviews, responding to a question about the scripts that interest him, he said “Anything, everything that helps me ask questions and take punga ” and in The Boy... he takes a dig at the methods of parenting that remain insensitive to the child’s needs. The script humorously explores how the popular notions of parenting may not work for the children with special needs.
The story is set in an English speaking metropolis. Unlike his sister Mallika, Malhar is a prodigy obsessed with chess and the game’s grand masters like Vishwanathan Anand. His extra ordinary intelligence affects his behaviour so much so that he stops smiling, spells every word that he utters and uses the names of his favourite grandmasters to verbally emote his expressions. The family’s response to this condition constitutes the play’s plot.
Two pillars that look like the chess pawns installed as the door frames divided the stage into a modest living room and a playing yard. In order to give room for the slapstick, the living room’s furniture is restricted to a raised platform and a chess board (symbolizes restraint and freedom) spread on the tea table.
Jaimini Pathak’s performance as Malhar proves that how new innovative role playing decisions can add humour to the plot. A couple of times, the spot-on dialogues do not match the scenes’ temper. Songs are rhyme like and the dance movements composed are similar to the chess moves. Despite its critical voice, the play is restricted in meaning.
Along with these two, Rangakalp’s Tumhara Vincent and Sopanam’s Madhyama Vyayogam was well appreciated.
K. ARAVIND MITRA
