Review: Einkvan, Coronet Theatre
A highly experimental piece of theatre, shot through live through cameras, that considers estrangement and longing, urging its audience to fill in the blanks.Summary
Rating
Good
Einkvan (Everyman) is the latest piece by 2023 Nobel-prize winner Jon Fosse brought to life on stage by Kjersti Horn’s direction. Hosted at the beautifully unique Coronet Theatre, this production turns traditional theatre on its head. A hybrid of contemporary art and theatre, Einkvan ponders on estrangement and existentialism through the eyes of difficult family dynamics.
Upon arrival, the audience is met with two screens suspended above a clinical, hospital-like curtain. We see the actors, blurry and undefined, as they meander the stage from behind the curtain. First introduced is the son, a visual artist, lying in a bathtub alone until he is joined on the other screen by a man who looks eerily like him. Neither want to speak to their parents, who make fervent attempts at contact with no luck. Son, mother and father each have a doppelganger, the only person who replies and converses with them. It is a dizzying yet innovative concept as the camera constantly moves between characters, only ever briefly, and with their doppelganger we see them in view together. By the end, the parents must accept silence as the two sons quite homoerotically tussle in the bathtub before laying in each other’s arms.
Solely shot live by a camera crew, this production allows us to study every inch, pore and expression of the characters, faces too close for comfort, the intensity much like the desperate pleas for contact from the mother and father. This casting choice is clever: we almost have to double-take to check they aren’t the same person, which adds an uncanny layer that further mystifies interpretation. This concept of family estrangement is about as much narrative as Fosse is willing to give the audience. We don’t know why they don’t talk, what has happened or why they each have a double.
Fosse desires his audience to interpret, and interpret they must, and not just the ambiguity of the play itself. Additionally the entire performance is in Norwegian with surtitles played onto the screens. The language barrier adds complexity to the reliance on audience interpretation. A lack of visual clues from body language and a struggle to fully comprehend the way in which lines are delivered feed into the theme of communication difficulty. Having to read surtitles doesn’t allow for much gazing at the actors, which is a shame for those interested in looking at the mechanics of the production, as you see the crew move around to capture each actor’s line. It’s great to see a play kept in its original language, but this does pose some problems for one as complexly rich in language and themes as this.
Einkvan offers a refreshing take on traditional theatre, utilising technology to its benefit. Its ambiguity leaves a lot to be contemplated, calling out for deep analysis and engagement. Not a play that all will enjoy, but for those who love existentialist ponderings it’s a production worth catching. If this is Everyman (or woman), what state is the world left in?
Text by: Jon Fosse
Direction by: Kjersti Horn
Set and costume design by: Sven Haroldsson
Composition and sound by: Erik Hedin
Lighting design by: Oscar Udbye
Video direction by: Mads Sjøgård Pettersen
Dramaturg by: Anna Albrigtsen
Camera operation by: Mads Sjøgård Pettersen and Borgar Skelstad
Einkvan plays at The Coronet Theatre until Saturday 17 May.