A ‘devised piece of theatre’ is still a fashionable enough term for theatre in India. It’s cool. It tickles curiosity and depending on what the case may be, raises expectations. It’s what experimental theatre is all about. Wow! We do take ourselves very seriously, don’t we? At least Ajay Krishnan and the young actors from Evam Youth Forum seem to.
If HAIR does not run the grave risk of being lablled as spurious or pretentious, it nevertheless disappoints and terribly so. Gosh…whatever happened to the light that shimmered after the promising debut of Krishnan’s BUTTER & MASHED BANANAS (2006)? Now that was a devised piece of theatre in the real sense of the word. It had both substance and style. While HAIR is not as lifeless as the word indicates, it neither has the intellect nor the attitude that made BUTTER & MASHED BANANAS a play you could reflect on in spite of its limitations.
Having said that there dosen’t remain much to be told. The play at best is a dark version of the fairy-tale of Rapunzel and her seemingly endless hair. At least for the most part of it. Any attempt at providing layers to the story, be it in the odd Indian mythical reference or in the more traditional onus that is put on the long hair of Indian women, is either reduced to a passing reference or one that is nearly out of sync with contemporary Indian women and society. Any attempt to explore the socio-cultural significance with reference to hair in Indian society is at best superficial.
Stories, whatever their origin and form have found new life in the theatre. An unusual re-working of the story can lead to exciting interpretations. But that’s not to be with Ajay Krishnan’s version in spite of it leaning against the stylistic hallmarks of Atul Kumar’s The Company Theatre. Evam Youth Forum is in fact a youth theatre initative by The Company Theatre.
Neither the mime nor the western classical symphony supporting the piece redeem the text. The mime in fact appears unnecessary; the white background is almost a cliché, given The Company Theatre’s past productions. And it would be perfectly useless to say anything about the screening at the end. In spite of its minimalist nature and its keen sense of theatre aesthetics, there is almost nothing that endures.
There’s a glimmering line here or there (When the prince tells Rapunzel: “How does it matter whether we stay indoors or outdoors?”), a very good attempt at parody (when the prince comes to woo Rapunzel) and there’s something to say about the performances. Pooja Sarup’s witch ably plays the psychological game with Kalki Koechlin’s Rapunzel, who in turn responds favourably. The sadism underlying the witch’s professed love for Rapunzel is what makes the fairy-tale dark. But again the complexity that can arise out of these characterizations is not explored. All you can say by the end of it is: “Where’s your story, my boy?” Such is its irony.
*The writer is Editor of this site, a theatre critic and an academic keenly interested in Theatre & Performance Studies.