“Lord of Misrule”
The Emperor is
Colin Teevan’s riveting theatricalization, slightly over an hour long, of
Polish journalist Ryszard
Kapuścińki’s (1932-2007) controversial 1978 book of that name. I say
theatricalization, not dramatization, because the material is essentially a
series of monologues providing fascinating information but nonetheless
generally lacking the interaction of characters we call drama. Among the controversies the book raised were concerns about
its factual accuracy, or what the author himself called “literary reportage.”  |
| Kathryn Hunter. Photo: Gerri Goodstein/ |
Considered a veiled jab at Poland’s communist regime at the
time and its leader, Edward Gierek, it was translated into English in 1983 (when
it was named the Sunday Times’s Book
of the Year) and, four years later, turned into a play by Michael Hastings and Jonathan
Miller for London’s Royal Court Theatre. Teevan’s is a new
adaptation.
Regardless of its relevance to communist Poland in the 1970s, The Emperor’s continuing value is as a
coolly satirical, universal reflection on the excesses and abominations of
autocracies everywhere, not least the one that’s growing in our midst.
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| Temesgen Zeleke, Katrhryn Hunter. Photo: Gerri Goodstein. |
But the chief reason to see The Emperor is the platform it provides for the diminutive British
actress Kathryn Hunter, known for her idiosyncratic characterizations of both
male (like King Lear and Richard III), female (Shakespeare’s Cleopatra among
them), and even nonhuman characters.
Her recent New York performances displayed
her unusual gifts—partly the result of a car crash in her early 20s—as a
“virtuoso physical performer.” Among them were Kafka’s
Monkey, in which she played the title role, and director Julie
Taymor’s A Midsummer
Night’s Dream, where she gamboled as Puck. Hunter's present project,
which began in England, is a coproduction of Brooklyn’s Theatre for a New
Audience; the Young Vic, London; HOME, Manchester, and Les Théâtre de la Ville
de Luxembourg.
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| Kathryn Hunter. Photo: Gerri Goodstein. |
Hunter is exceedingly well accompanied by Ethiopian-born
musician/singer, Temesgen Zeleke, who sits to one side, performing exquisitely
melodic tunes on his five-string krar lyre, and also
playing four briefly limned characters. The focus, though, is on Hunter’s
chameleon-like transformative powers as, combining her research with
considerable inventiveness, she covers nearly a dozen different male roles
(none of them Selassie); the book has over 30. For each, she adjusts her
posture, gestures, facial expressions, and speech.
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| Kathryn Hunter. Photo: Gerri Goodstein. |
Among the characters are a valet; a menial whose sole task
is to wipe the emperor’s dog’s pee from people’s footwear; a zookeeper who
feeds the animals meat from a silver tray; a servant who carries the emperor’s
pillows and must time their placement beneath his feet perfectly; the emperor’s
purse bearer, and so on. Each describes his job while filling us in on Selassie’s
extravagances and craving for self-enrichment through “development” in a nation desperately
needing “reform” to overcome its suffering from hunger and poverty.
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| Kathryn Hunter. Photo: Gerri Goodstein. |
As the people starve, the emperor’s ego is assuaged by the
construction of such things as His Imperial Majesty Haile Selassie I, King of
Kings of Ethiopia and Elect of God, Airport, or His Imperial Majesty Haile
Selassie I, King of Kings of Ethiopia and Elect of God, Ring Road and Tunnel. A
clip from Jonathan Dimbledy’s powerful 1973 documentary, The Unknown Famine, underlines the disastrous conditions Selassie
allowed to fester. Gradually, we learn of the plot to overthrow the emperor
and of his ultimate demise at the hands of the Derg government.
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| Kathryn Hunter, Temesgen Zeleke. Photo: Gerri Goodstein. |
Ti Green’s set, perceptively lit by Mike Gunning, is an open, wood-floored space, onto which a high, white curtain is
sometimes drawn or withdrawn. Using little more than a chair, Hunter—flawlessly
directed by Walter Meierjohann—delivers her monologues in spotlighted areas,
shifting from one to the other as she changes character, the transitions being marked by explosive sounds created by Paul Arditti. When needed, informative
titles flash on an upstage background; unfortunately, they’re fuzzy, hard to
read, and vanish too quickly.
The Emperor is
brief, thematically pointed, and perfectly executed. If you’ve never seen
Kathryn Hunter, the moment is ripe.
OTHER VIEWPOINTS:
Theatre for a New Audience
Polonsky Shakespeare Center
262 Ashland Place, Brooklyn, NY
Through September 30
