As you walk into the theatre, folks in facepaint brandishing tommy guns and speaking in Chicago accents frisk you. “Guns and booze?” they ask, reaching into my pockets, pulling out my phone and a tissue. One of them grimaces. “That’s gross,” he says, before putting them back in.
And it’s all uphill from there.
The Resistible Rise of Arturo Ui is a play by Bertolt Brecht. It’s one of his lesser known ones, and if this adaptation is any indication, one of his more brilliant.
Following the rise of the titular gangster as he goes to control the town of Cicero’s cauliflower trade amidst press, politicians, dockworkers, and immigrants, Arturo Ui paints a grand picture of fascism in a very entertaining microcosm. It was written as a parable for the rise of Hitler, after all.
Much of this comes in the stylish production design and the scrappy, modern aesthetic given to it by director Ted Witzel, remounting a production from January, with much of York’s MFA program in tow. Every part of the scenery is cohesive and cool in the way only the lawless frontier of tommy gun America can be, but it’s also unquestionably Toronto. The entire set is basically built and plastered with headlines from our city, in fact.
Paired with interesting musical choices (fucking Nas is on the playlist) accompanying live music and the use of projections for a variety of purposes, the play merits rewatching simply by virtue of the sheer number of things going on at any given time. The use of a thrust stage adds to this, as everyone’s on point and always playing to a different side.
It’s a high-octane production that feels very honest and indie, sold especially by the tone that’s set (elements of interactivity are introduced to us as the play starts and are followed through as it goes on) and the remarkable range of acting on display.
There’s an undercurrent of tension and humour to the piece that’s buoyed by the ensemble, and all of them shine in their respective roles, with Daniela Pagliarello deserving special mention for her performance as Ui. Her performance plays on an emotional tightrope that rarely, if ever, feels disingenuous, regardless of whether her character’s learning to strut, or screaming bloody murder in an almost cliche I’ve-seen-these-attempts-at-frustration-before way.
It’s not a perfect production. The projections often break the narrative with history lessons and explanations of how the play parallels Nazi Germany, calling back our own situation in Toronto through some too on-the-nose text; these elements are present within the play and handled masterfully in the action, not needing the extraneous details.
There’s a point near the end where the audience is called in to participate, and the only way to win is to not play. The whole thing feels like it runs just a tiny bit too long, and (although this is more because of the text) it’s a cynical, hopeless, and nihilistic affair.
But it’s a cynical, hopeless affair with passion, a burning heart, and a very visceral desire to entertain—a perfect antidote to the meandering, slow-paced theatre the average non-goer expects of the medium, and a great way to come into theatre if you’ve never been before.
If you’re looking for a better play to see right now, fuhgeddaboutit.
Abdul Malik
Arts Editor
