Back on home soil, I
rarely go more than a month without some sort of theatrical venture but since
moving to Spain in September I’ve been practically starved of all things
theatre. This has been mainly due to my absolute certainty that, were I to attempt
to watch a play in Spanish, I’d be lucky to understand the title. But one day,
browsing the website of the local theatre (Los Jovellanos, Gijon) a name caught
my eye and my heart leapt. John Steinbeck. Now, last year I decided to read ‘Of Mice
and Men’ as part of an attempt to begin working through the hefty list of books
in my ‘really should read’ column. Sadly, I sometimes have magpie-like
tendencies when it comes to literature so, one day, when I was about two thirds
of the way through, a slightly shinier book cover caught my eye and that was
the end of that. And now, in Spain, I was being provided with the opportunity
to kill two birds with one stone – to make amends for my literary
capriciousness and to bite the theatre-in-Spain bullet. I couldn’t refuse.
Leaving the theatre after the show I was somewhat unable to
form a coherent opinion on the production itself as my mind was consumed by one
thought: I understood nearly ALL OF IT! As a Modern Languages student, this
really shouldn’t have been cause for much more than a pat on the back. But this
particular Modern Languages student (to whom the concept of ‘fluency’ seems as
mythical as a leprechaun riding a unicorn) could’ve cracked open a bottle of bubbly
and thrown a little fiesta in celebration. But gradually, as my excitement died
down, I was able to reflect upon what I’d just seen. And it made for some
pretty enjoyable reflection...
Thanks to GCSE English Literature, I doubt that there are
many people reading this who are unfamiliar with the story but for the
unacquainted amongst you here is a very brief summary (no spoilers, I promise);
the tale follows two ranch workers at the time of the Great Depression in
America. They travel together, look after each other and encourage one another towards
a common dream of someday owning their very own plot of land. The story’s
beauty and tragedy (a bucket load of tragedy actually...but, as I said, no spoilers...)
is found in the nature of their relationship as one of the men, Lennie, is
mentally disabled and the other, George, takes on the role of his guardian,
through thick and thin. It’s a story about human nature, friendship and
hardship and was partway inspired by the wonderful Robert Burns poem ‘To A Mouse’.
‘The
best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men gang aft agley’
The production I saw, originally staged in Madrid and met
with critical acclaim, was a treat from start to finish. Fernando Cayo and
Roberto Alamo were both outstanding in the roles of George and Lennie. Cayo, as
George, managed to sustain the necessary pace to offset the slow and lumbering
figure of Alamo as the mentally disabled Lennie without ever seeming to rush. And Alamo was so consistent, portraying Lennie with such sensitivity, that as we left the theatre one of my friends remarked that perhaps the actor himself was mentally disabled as to generate such a convincing and authentic performance would surely be impossible. The two actors complimented each other perfectly and it was clear that, vocally,
physically and emotionally, they had taken great care to master not
just their respective roles but the duo as one entity too.
The show ran for 120 minutes without an interval, which I
think some people found quite intense given the affecting nature of the story.
Then again it didn’t warrant an interval, which, I think, would have interrupted
the flow. And flow it did. Every scene change was slick, quick and dramatic,
with the entire cast (10 in total) running on stage in character and
rearranging the set with shouts and cries, as if carrying out labour on the
ranch. I love it when set changes are integrated into the action of a show so I
was sold from the off. The set was simple, and rightly so given the complexity
of the action – all that was really required of it was to support the action
practically and effectively. What at first was a mound of grass upon which we
found Lennie and George lying as the curtain rose, was hauled up by pullies and
ropes to seamlessly transform into the wall of the ranch building. Two hinged
flats were lowered from this same wall and, voila, two beds were created. Magic.
Cayo and Alamo undoubtedly carried the production but they
were supported by a very strong cast. Irene Escolar, playing the wife of the
ranch-owner’s son and the only female in the cast, was totally captivating. My
one criticism would be that she spoke at the speed of turbo-charged light. But
what I didn’t understand of her words was more than made up for by her body
language. Our first glimpse of her came as she floated onto the stage in ballet
shoes and a figure hugging dress leaving Lennie, George and the male population
of the audience jaws agape. Another remarkable performance was that of Eduardo
Velasco, who played the brawny ranch hand Curly and who used his Spanish machismo
to fantastic effect, practically oozing testosterone every time he entered the stage,
such was his presence and strength of character.
I laughed, I gasped, I sighed and at the heartbreaking
climax of the play I most certainly cried. Every emotional note was pitch
perfect and the universal themes were deftly brought to the fore so that a
story heavily anchored in 1930s America was made relevant and relatable. The
language barrier was no match for this absolute top-notch production and I’m so
bloody glad I went.
