Menocchio & Popular Dissent
Nov. 26th, 2002 11:26 amLast Sunday,
kimberly_nlts and I saw a play at the Berkeley Rep called Menocchio. I had no particular preconceptions going in--generally I try and learn as little about dramatic presentations as I can so I'm pleasantly surprised. Once I got to the theatre and started reading the program I discovered it was about the Italian Inquisition, and created and directed by the same playwright as had staged The Magic Fire a few years ago, a play I'd enjoyed quite a bit.
So, before the lights went down and the players took the stage, I'd already decided that Menocchio would be quite good.
Unfortunately, I was mistaken.
Menocchio had a very simple plot, and that was much of the problem. It went something like this:
The first problem I had with Menocchio was that there was a thimbleful of plot in the whole play. I could have gotten all of Act I with one scene, and all of Act II with a second one. I can only assume that the hope was to create a minimal skeleton plot to hang comedy upon ... and then to let comedy carry the day. And, there was definite comedy in Menocchio, most of it quite mature and fully featured. But even a good laugh every five minutes wasn't worth two and a half hours of my time.
Much, much more disturbing was the message that Menocchio seemed to be sending.
Menocchio (the person, not the play) hurt people by getting them to think. They were being driven insane by the thought of a godless world. The entire centerpiece of the play seemed to be a moving speech given by the Italian Inquisitor telling the story of a woman's terrible life, where she'd lost her children, her husband, her house, her fields, and her livestock, and then asking how Menocchio could take away her hope for a better life afterward that would make up for how terrible this one had been.
Given the overall structure of the play--for example the fact that the Inquisitor was one of the most sympathic characters--I have to assume that Menocchio was intended as a religious screed. A statement that religion exists because people are too weak to understand the world, and that it must be allowed to stand no matter how little sense it makes. Whatever. A diatribe on the joy of ignorance was never going to win me over, but that alone wouldn't have left me shaking my head at both the play and the Rep for staging it.
However, no matter what the purpose of the play was when it was written, it has to be taken in the context of the times. A play begging for people to be quiet, not to think, and not to stir up the common folks against their "betters" can't be seen today without putting it in the context of American politics. To stage this play suggests that we should not question the government, should not wonder why we are preparing to attack Iraq though they've never shown any relationship to the terrorists who struck on 9/11/01, should not wonder if our country's actions are truly for the best interest of the world or only the selfishness of George Bush, jr., and his military cartel.
And, in my opinion, to take one of the few public forums for questioning the dominant powers of church and state, and to use it to present a parable about how one should not question the dominant powers of church and state, seems not just wasteful but frankly dangerous and disrespectful of its patrons. This isn't about presenting a viewpoint at odds with the locale where the play was staged, but rather about saying that no viewpoints are acceptable ... or at the least that it's not acceptable to espouse one's view points.
I would have expected better from the theatre that had the courage to show Tony Kushner's "Homebody/Kabul" last year, despite the fact that George Bush, jr., tried to personally shut the production down, because it dared to humanize the Afghanistans that he was then in the process of murdering.
I can only guess that the Berkeley Rep didn't think about what Menocchio really meant, or at least didn't say so if they did.
The inquisition would have been proud.
As
kimberly_nlts points out in her own thoughts about Menocchio, Berkeley Rep did a much better job a couple of years ago when they staged the excellent Life of Galileo and actually treated many of these issues in a complex manner.
So, before the lights went down and the players took the stage, I'd already decided that Menocchio would be quite good.
Unfortunately, I was mistaken.
Menocchio had a very simple plot, and that was much of the problem. It went something like this:
- Begin Act I: Man discovers books.
- Man reads.
- Man begins to develop his own opinions.
- Man espouses opinions to fellows.
- Chaos ensues. Dogs and cats sleep together. This is awful!
- Begin Act II: Man brought before Italian inquisition.
- Man stubbornly holds to views.
- Man suddenly breaks down under threat of torture.
- Man agrees to repent his heresies.
- Fifteen years later .... Man discovers books.
- Man burns at stake as heretic.
The first problem I had with Menocchio was that there was a thimbleful of plot in the whole play. I could have gotten all of Act I with one scene, and all of Act II with a second one. I can only assume that the hope was to create a minimal skeleton plot to hang comedy upon ... and then to let comedy carry the day. And, there was definite comedy in Menocchio, most of it quite mature and fully featured. But even a good laugh every five minutes wasn't worth two and a half hours of my time.
Much, much more disturbing was the message that Menocchio seemed to be sending.
Menocchio (the person, not the play) hurt people by getting them to think. They were being driven insane by the thought of a godless world. The entire centerpiece of the play seemed to be a moving speech given by the Italian Inquisitor telling the story of a woman's terrible life, where she'd lost her children, her husband, her house, her fields, and her livestock, and then asking how Menocchio could take away her hope for a better life afterward that would make up for how terrible this one had been.
Given the overall structure of the play--for example the fact that the Inquisitor was one of the most sympathic characters--I have to assume that Menocchio was intended as a religious screed. A statement that religion exists because people are too weak to understand the world, and that it must be allowed to stand no matter how little sense it makes. Whatever. A diatribe on the joy of ignorance was never going to win me over, but that alone wouldn't have left me shaking my head at both the play and the Rep for staging it.
However, no matter what the purpose of the play was when it was written, it has to be taken in the context of the times. A play begging for people to be quiet, not to think, and not to stir up the common folks against their "betters" can't be seen today without putting it in the context of American politics. To stage this play suggests that we should not question the government, should not wonder why we are preparing to attack Iraq though they've never shown any relationship to the terrorists who struck on 9/11/01, should not wonder if our country's actions are truly for the best interest of the world or only the selfishness of George Bush, jr., and his military cartel.
And, in my opinion, to take one of the few public forums for questioning the dominant powers of church and state, and to use it to present a parable about how one should not question the dominant powers of church and state, seems not just wasteful but frankly dangerous and disrespectful of its patrons. This isn't about presenting a viewpoint at odds with the locale where the play was staged, but rather about saying that no viewpoints are acceptable ... or at the least that it's not acceptable to espouse one's view points.
I would have expected better from the theatre that had the courage to show Tony Kushner's "Homebody/Kabul" last year, despite the fact that George Bush, jr., tried to personally shut the production down, because it dared to humanize the Afghanistans that he was then in the process of murdering.
I can only guess that the Berkeley Rep didn't think about what Menocchio really meant, or at least didn't say so if they did.
The inquisition would have been proud.
As