Bent old hat

ON the strength of Muted Cupid's presentation of Bent, Martin Sherman succeeded in writing half a gripping play

ON the strength of Muted Cupid's presentation of Bent, Martin Sherman succeeded in writing half a gripping play. Act Two occurs in that most potent and evocative of settings, Dachau concentration camp, and focuses on the love making of two prisoners (played by Alan Kinsella and James Barry) who can neither look at each other, nor touch each other. In a brilliant theatrical conceit, the charged eroticism between them is conveyed by the insistent power of language. The two characters caged behind barbed wire, standing motionless and apart, pursue the love that may not speak its name, under the eyes of a corrupt and repressive regime. The imagery is arresting and relevant.

Sad to say, the prelude to this, ostensibly a representation of the gaiety of Thirties Berlin, is unremittingly dull. The Nazis goose step through every cliche, barring "Mein Gott" and "Himmel". In spite of some confident handling of special effects, neither the timid setting (by Johanna Connor) nor Erica Millette's nondescript costumes evoke anything of the period, except in the camp. Eoin Freeney leaves his cast adrift with inadequate direction, so that the sense of decadence is unrealised.

Until the action moves towards Dachau one is left wondering if the actors will get to grips with the play; the mangled lines are simply weak and unconvincing. What electrified the Royal Court audience in 1979, when the play was first presented, is in danger of seeming old hat in 1996.

This production is under pinned by an intelligent programme which provides rich background material and Muted Cupid loudly asserts its commitment as the "National Gay and Lesbian Theatre". Unfortunately, neither of these factors is a guarantee of good theatre. Sincerity must be matched by professional skill and there is not enough of that in evidence in this production.

READ MORE

Alan Kinsella brings great emotional energy to the role of Max, but steers dangerously close to sentimentality. There is, however, one remarkable performance, that of James Barry's Horst. He has a commanding stage presence, using voice and eye and gesture to give the play some emotional resonance. He redeems the second half, but he cannot carry the night on his own.