Showing posts with label homosexuality. Show all posts
Showing posts with label homosexuality. Show all posts

Wednesday, 24 February 2016

Cleansed

art-sheep.com
Sarah Kane is, of course, known for her particularly dark and radical writing and is one iconic theatre writer I really wish I'd met. She's a troubled young writer of the past who, almost 20yrs later, still manages to shake up our theatre audiences, or if nothing else, certainly makes us stop abruptly to think, to analyse, to be shocked.

10 mins into 'Cleansed' at the Dorfman Theatre and we'd already lost two members of the audience due to fainting. That tells you most of what you need to know about a Kane theatre experience. As director, Katie Mitchell says: 'We are not shirking any of the violence requested in the stage directions'. 'Kane's stage directions request literal violence. A tongue is cut off with a pair of scissors. Hands are cut off. So how do you do that in a way that is not symbolic?' Well she found the answer to that one pretty quickly it seems. Mitchell embraces the sexual violence, ripping it from the page and brandishing it to audiences that shift uncomfortably in their seats, discover an unusual interest in the lighting rig and distract themselves by digging the dirt from beneath their fingernails - perhaps this is what Kane pictured when she titled the piece 'cleansed' -  never before have fingernails emerged so immaculate.

nationaltheatre.org.uk

SPOILERS
The production is set in what seems like a derelict school or prison facility in which it is not just the body that is trapped. The mind is too. Outside the walls of this prison there is nothing but hopelessness with the sound of bombs dropping, placing our abstract narrative amidst a world at war. The war exists inside as well, with a power hierarchy much representative of Nazi brutality during the holocaust. As Kane referenced herself, Roland Barthes said, 'when one is in love, one is in Dachau', so perhaps this informed the location that Kane needed for such a powerful and brutal, sexual message.

theartsdesk.com
The play begins with protagonist 'Grace' in a red dress, watching on as Graham begs for heroine from Tinker, the complex villain of our tale, who sadistically injects it into his eye - a bit of a metaphor for the piece really - injecting pain and brutality into the eyes of its beholders. That's where we lost audience member number one.

Grace, is looking for her brother (Graham). Her journey leads her to him, alive and well and the two duel like lovers, dancing together half-naked until Grace clambers on top of him to make love.


thestage.co.uk
Though Graham is not the only one with affection for Grace. Matthew Tennyson is marvellous as Robin, who not only looks amazing in a dress but who conveys the vulnerability of his character beautifully. He ventures out to buy Grace chocolates before Tinker catches him and feeds them to him one by one, with the same tool he'd cut Carl's tongue off with. We were watching torture, with Tinker instilling his dominance over such a likable and fragile victim. Robin struggles with his feelings for Grace, explaining that he's never been with anyone before. He exclaims 'I love you'. Grace replies 'I love you too'. He is delicate and it is a tragic moment as he shouts for help, for understanding, for someone to talk to, before ending it all with a noose made from tights. Matthew Tennyson is most definitely the highlight of this wholly unbearable experience.

metro.co.uk
We also meet two homosexual lovers, Rod and Carl. Carl declares 'I'll love you forever'. Rod can only say, 'I love you now'. He struggles with commitment. The savage nature of love places them in this facility together, as Carl is systematically tortured, his tongue cut off, his hands cut off, his feet cut off. He is forced to confront exactly what commitment to Rod meant for him, 'I love you, forever'. The very words that had placed him in this nightmare. His final torture, is also his final moment of pleasure, as Rod struggles to support him as they have sex with one another. Soon after, Rod is shot. Carl - his fate is much worse.

standard.co.uk
Our torturer Tinker is just as complex as our other characters. An exotic dancer arrives throughout the piece to perform for him, as he tries to pleasure himself, though it seems that he struggles with intimacy and instead asks, 'can we be friends?'. Grace mimics the girl's dancing, drawing attention to her quest for understanding her sexuality. Tinker is as emotionally trapped as his prisoners. He tells the woman 'I love you'. She replies 'I love you' too. They later have sex, with the girl dirty-talking as they do so, telling him she loves him, telling him to finish 'inside' - only he can't. Suddenly his villainy aligns - he is punishing those around him for their sexuality because he is unsure of his. He cannot be aroused by women or perhaps, cannot be aroused by the very nature of sexuality at all, that he so greatly despises.

nationaltheatre.org.uk
nationaltheatre.org
The final scene emerges. Tinker, out of frustration, shoots the woman dead. Grace is strapped to a bed and wheeled offstage, Carl wheeled offstage too. The two return to stun their audience as it all begins to make sense. Grace did not love her brother Graham. Not sexually anyway. Graham was the embodiment of who she wanted to be. She was trapped inside a woman's body and was screaming to find her true self, fantasising about his body. As she seeks help, she is subjected to systematic rape and violence. She tries to mimic the actions of those around her, flirting with the confusion of her gender and sexuality both at once. She explores both the female and male body and is finally confronted with her primary wish.

She reappears as Tinker reveals menacingly that the surgery is complete. He has removed Carl's sexual organs and attached them to Grace, with some very clever, if-not shocking, costume design here. She becomes Graham and despite the turmoil she's been through, says 'thank you'? This is, it seems, the harrowing and completely sickening journey of a desperate woman's journey to become who she was inside. A systematic torture centre, punishing the gender identity and sexuality of its prisoners, again as Barthes said, 'when one is in love, one is in Dachau'.

thestage.co.uk
The piece, although abstract, is extraordinarily clever. The events managing to represent ill mental health, torture, sexual desire, confusion, growth and love, all at once. It is a play about identity about pushing and pulling ourselves through our own sexual discoveries, about growing through our pain (symbolised by the sunflowers and daffodils that appear through the boards). It's about others taking pleasure in our torture and only some of us make it out the other side. Mitchell manages to give this piece new meaning with the growing conversation around transgender identity - the piece portraying the struggle, the betrayal, the hope, the torment, the torture - all parts of this tragic clambering through life in order to find our true selves.

Despite my acknowledgement of this vigorous declaration of all aspects of love and pain, one thing was certainly clear upon leaving the theatre, I felt anything but 'Cleansed'.

Sources: http://londoncalling.com/features/katie-mitchell-cleansed-national-theatre

Friday, 2 October 2015

A Sinner in Mecca

Parvez Sharma's A Sinner in Mecca - described as a hajj of defiance, screened at this year's Sheffield DocFest earlier this year, to a full house.

theguardian.com
Sharma had a lot to live up to following his previous film 'A Jihad for Love' where he documented the lives of gay, lesbian and transgender Muslims, who choose to remain faithful to Islam, and some in countries where many would choose to flee. Sharma decided it was time to fulfil his Hajj, only he had a secret, Parvez Sharma is a gay man, which carries with it more than the threat of being caught with a camera, but also the threat of death. Sharma confesses, 'I was done coming out as a gay man, I needed to come out as a Muslim' and that is exactly what A Sinner in Mecca set out to do - all-be-it rather indignantly. The 79min film is almost entirely shot on an Iphone, with various rules in place that would make it difficult to film on anything less discreet.

outlandic.com
However, if the aim was to prove himself as a Muslim, to come out devout to his faith, I felt that from start to finish the film was riveted with skepticism and tied together only by a slightly biased reaction to an only partly-authentic journey. Of course I expected him to be on his guard, he was filming and hiding the fact he was a gay man. Sharma has even received personalised death threats following the world premiere of his film in Canada. He does however, hold some form of a grudge against the faith that has caused many to shun him, or at least against the misinterpretation of that faith.

nytimes.com
For example, the Saudi shopping malls, the litter covering the streets of Mecca, the air-conditioned corridor that represents the journey between the desert hills of Al-Safa and Al-Marwah. Sure, that's enough to cause us all to question the authenticity of the pilgrimage. However, it was the way in which Sharma proceeded to sacrifice a goat despite his ill-feeling, to judge a father for teaching his children to throw an incorrect number of stones at 'the devil', to question what the hajj has become in order to cater for the millions of pilgrims each year. He even captured what should have been, and is for so many Muslims, the holiest moment of the Hajj, by touching the Kaaba and with iPhone in hand it felt like the least sincere moment of the film. It felt like an intrusion of the faith of those around him and as though he had no care for it at all. The film was still more important. It was his own Hajj of defiance against those other Muslims who judge him for being gay, and he was judging them right back. He too was measuring his fellow Pilgrims' 'Muslim-ness' to use a term I've seen in conversation. It was Sharma's skeptism towards this, his constant awareness of it, and his need to tell the camera of it, that actually persisted to convince me that Sharma was not proving his faith in his religion, but more disproving it. How can he comment on the sacredness and sanctity of the Hajj if he spends most of his time moving from socket to socket to charge his own iphone, to ultimately, make a film - which was the predominant reason for going after all. Perhaps that is why filming is prohibited in the first place - as the holy city is a place of spirituality, and capturing it as a mere visual image to show family and friends, or to fulfil a predetermined conclusion (or at least partially determined) is not a true reflection on the holy city, nor on the sacredness of the Hajj. Of course, I will never know or be able to form my own opinion on this, I cannot see it for myself, I am not a Muslim. So instead, Sharma is the best hope we have.
cbc.ca

I'd be lying if I said I didn't agree with him in places. Walking up and down an air-conditioned corridor is a far cry from what it is supposed to represent, and the litter within the holy city does beg to ask how holy a city it is if men will drop their litter on its grounds, but we've seen the aftermath of music festivals and street marches of only a few thousand, Mecca must welcome millions to its streets.




The personal journey was present at times. There were moments where Sharma found his sprituality, or at least recognised the value of being a part of a world-wide Muslim community coming together. It was hugely powerful to witness these moments in him and I felt that I learned much more about 'coming out as a Muslim' when he allowed himself to fulfil his emotional potential within his surroundings.


The film has reached much critical acclaim, and I feel as though I am in no place to revere it as anything less than the powerful documentary they claim it to be. It suffered from poor sound quality at times with a high pitched repetitive recurring sound that seemed to find its way into the mix often but considering it was filmed on an Iphone, I couldn't fault it any further. Although I would question the legitimacy of its narrative voice, I highly disagree with the amount of hate mail that has been directed at him for portraying his own journey, particularly when it comes to his sexuality. This is after all, Sharma's story and not one that should represent the Hajj of any other pilgrim. It's nice to know though, that wherever hate mail exists, there is someone there to fight Sharma's corner... it seems that his coming out as a Muslim has seen him welcomed after all. But at what cost? He spends 80mins telling us he was losing his faith rather than strengthening it and hen concludes that by the end he is a better Muslim - how'd he work that one out? He's no better than those who judge him. He almost makes it worse for himself, framing himself as a kind of martyr, 'Islam is at war with itself and I have fought hard not to be a casualty' he says.

You can catch 'A Sinner in Mecca' on Netflix and it's definitely worth a watch. It really is a conversation starter, and a film that really gets you thinking about self-discovery. It's a rather intrusive 80min portrayal of the Hajj and its pilgrims and an equally judgemental narrative but worth a watch all the same, even if only to disagree with Sharma.