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pegkerrSo, I went to see Jane Eyre last night. I was glad to see it, but I thought it wasn't an entirely successful production, and I've been trying to pin down exactly why.
The house was perhaps three-quarters full. Someone who seemed to be associated with the production came over and was chatting with the woman next to me during intermission, and from their conversation I gathered that we were a somewhat subdued house, failing to clap as expected after certain numbers. From my own experience, I know that when an audience feels "dead" to the actors, the result can be a diminished energy which in turn can disconcert the actors. I wonder if that was at work.
There were the problem that could certainly be expected from translating a long book into a two and a half hour stage play--with songs, no less. Necessarily, character development must be abbreviated; the actor is forced to rely on one note of the character's personality rather than a larger gestalt. I think this worked the least with Mr. Rochester, perhaps, despite the actor's best efforts. He suffered with Byronic intensity--my God how he suffered, and we knew it every minute--and he loved Jane, but that was practically all was left of him. The complexity of his character as suggested by his conversations with Jane in the book must perforce be reduced. And when you add songs, despite the skills of the actors, there can be an additionally complicating air of unreality (suspension of disbelief is harder to muster that Helen Burns really dies coughing from typhus when she's singing a lovely song just a moment before).
The other problem with translation to the stage medium was that the English reserve that each character has in the book, the enigma, the mystery, was stripped away. There could be no doubt for either character that the other one loved because it was played as broadly as possible--their looks were so conscious. They started and blushed and wore their hearts absolutely on their sleeve. Part of what keeps the reader reading is that what Mr. Rochester thinks about Jane, whether he loves her or not, is a mystery for so long, until the proposal. Here, he is singing for us that he loves her when he is alone, and if she couldn't figure it out when they were together, well then, she was hopelessly dim. And Jane is not supposed to be dim. It is equally unbelievable when he complains that he can't read her.
There were other nitpicks: no commonality of accent, or accents came and went. Mrs. Fairfax was well-acted and well-sung, but played very broadly as hopelessly deaf in the first scene, a fact which was entirely forgotten the rest of the play. Bertha Mason is supposed to be a primal, frightening force of nature, but either the actress wasn't willing (or experienced enough) to throw herself into portraying raving madness, or it just can't translate on stage. Perhaps a more imaginative lighting designer or tech designer could have come up with a more suggestive way to suggest the fire in the book than orange light flickering on white fabric when Mr. Rochester's bed curtains catch on fire, or Thornfield burns.
The singing was done quite well. I found that the singing really caught fire for me with a couple numbers in particular.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
v_bridgetjones's song was lovely, you were right, but I particularly enjoyed the duets Jane and Rochester sang, first "Secret Soul" which they sang simultaneously from different parts of the house, and the proposal scene. The proposal scene really worked. Blanche Ingram's number captured her vanity beautifully--the actress certainly had the pipes to dig into that showy number.
And the casting of Jane and Rochester? They sang their parts well, although not dazzlingly. Jane, as the St. Paul Pioneer Press mentioned, might have been too pretty, although they did their best to compensate by attiring her in black, "as soberly as a nun" as she is in the book and keeping her makeup simple. Rochester . . . hmm. I'd be awfully curious to see what other actors would have done with that part. Was it the actor's interpretation (was that sulking he was doing rather than manly brooding?), or just the part itself that made him so different from the Rochester in the book?
Would I recommend it? I'd say, hmm, a qualified yes. I think they are a young company, and there are certain unevenesses of the production, but certain parts did work. And after all, how often do you get to see Jane Eyre on stage?
The house was perhaps three-quarters full. Someone who seemed to be associated with the production came over and was chatting with the woman next to me during intermission, and from their conversation I gathered that we were a somewhat subdued house, failing to clap as expected after certain numbers. From my own experience, I know that when an audience feels "dead" to the actors, the result can be a diminished energy which in turn can disconcert the actors. I wonder if that was at work.
There were the problem that could certainly be expected from translating a long book into a two and a half hour stage play--with songs, no less. Necessarily, character development must be abbreviated; the actor is forced to rely on one note of the character's personality rather than a larger gestalt. I think this worked the least with Mr. Rochester, perhaps, despite the actor's best efforts. He suffered with Byronic intensity--my God how he suffered, and we knew it every minute--and he loved Jane, but that was practically all was left of him. The complexity of his character as suggested by his conversations with Jane in the book must perforce be reduced. And when you add songs, despite the skills of the actors, there can be an additionally complicating air of unreality (suspension of disbelief is harder to muster that Helen Burns really dies coughing from typhus when she's singing a lovely song just a moment before).
The other problem with translation to the stage medium was that the English reserve that each character has in the book, the enigma, the mystery, was stripped away. There could be no doubt for either character that the other one loved because it was played as broadly as possible--their looks were so conscious. They started and blushed and wore their hearts absolutely on their sleeve. Part of what keeps the reader reading is that what Mr. Rochester thinks about Jane, whether he loves her or not, is a mystery for so long, until the proposal. Here, he is singing for us that he loves her when he is alone, and if she couldn't figure it out when they were together, well then, she was hopelessly dim. And Jane is not supposed to be dim. It is equally unbelievable when he complains that he can't read her.
There were other nitpicks: no commonality of accent, or accents came and went. Mrs. Fairfax was well-acted and well-sung, but played very broadly as hopelessly deaf in the first scene, a fact which was entirely forgotten the rest of the play. Bertha Mason is supposed to be a primal, frightening force of nature, but either the actress wasn't willing (or experienced enough) to throw herself into portraying raving madness, or it just can't translate on stage. Perhaps a more imaginative lighting designer or tech designer could have come up with a more suggestive way to suggest the fire in the book than orange light flickering on white fabric when Mr. Rochester's bed curtains catch on fire, or Thornfield burns.
The singing was done quite well. I found that the singing really caught fire for me with a couple numbers in particular.
v_bridgetjones's song was lovely, you were right, but I particularly enjoyed the duets Jane and Rochester sang, first "Secret Soul" which they sang simultaneously from different parts of the house, and the proposal scene. The proposal scene really worked. Blanche Ingram's number captured her vanity beautifully--the actress certainly had the pipes to dig into that showy number.And the casting of Jane and Rochester? They sang their parts well, although not dazzlingly. Jane, as the St. Paul Pioneer Press mentioned, might have been too pretty, although they did their best to compensate by attiring her in black, "as soberly as a nun" as she is in the book and keeping her makeup simple. Rochester . . . hmm. I'd be awfully curious to see what other actors would have done with that part. Was it the actor's interpretation (was that sulking he was doing rather than manly brooding?), or just the part itself that made him so different from the Rochester in the book?
Would I recommend it? I'd say, hmm, a qualified yes. I think they are a young company, and there are certain unevenesses of the production, but certain parts did work. And after all, how often do you get to see Jane Eyre on stage?