Drama Bleeding Hearts and Genocide

Savages

By Christopher Hampton

Directed by John Banas

Downstage

Savages is the second play about politics Downstage has presented this year. Heroes and Butterflies showed us reasonably good acting struggling with a childishly simple script, but this time we have the reverse. Christopher Hampton's play has just the degree of atmospheric tension and apparent profundity one might expect from a leading modern British playwright. It also has a cast which in the main does not come to grips with theme, character or dramatic requirements.

The play is centred on a British diplomat in Brazil who is kidnapped by urban guerrillas. He has developed a concerted interst in the fate of the Brazilian Indians, who are being systematically exterminated by the Brazilian government and private land speculators.

There are three main dramatic components: scenes from the diplomat's life in Brazil before the kidnap, in which we see his developing sense of guilt for what the civilized world' is doing to people more defenceless than it; a broken monologue in which an anthropologist with the same guilt complex describes an annual ceremony of death and regereration (the Quarup); and scenes between the diplomat, Alan West, and one of the guerrillas, Carlos Esquerdo, which act as the link for the other others. The play as written requires the Quarup to be performed live onstage, but director John Banas has instead set the lone with over 400 slides projected onto three enormous backdrops.

All these things form a relatively co-[unclear: herent] whole. Banas has used the flash-[unclear: back] device of having West speak a line to [unclear: imself] while sitting alone in his cell, [unclear: hen] having him move across and repeat [unclear: he] line as the beginning [unclear: of] a scene. Some [unclear: of] these scenes involve the [unclear: anthropologist], [unclear: go] the slide show description does not sit uncomfortably in the rest of the [unclear: production].

However, although by this and other means (including a strong focus on West) [unclear: Banas] has created a fairly tight structure [unclear: the] production is largely lacking in pace. [unclear: The] slides are fine as an isolated element [unclear: out] they are not inherently dramatic and [unclear: maintain] a passive feeling throughout.

All the scenes are played within small [unclear: areas] (even though the set is open and [unclear: accors] could move anywhere at any time) so [unclear: there] is very little movement. What there [unclear: s] often appears cramped; sometimes one [unclear: even] gets the impression an actor's feet [unclear: have] been nailed to the floor.

Ray Henwood's performance in the [unclear: kad] role has had a marked affect on the [unclear: piece]. He has interpreted West as a disillusioned, depressed and somewhat cynical [unclear: man] who lacks any of the energy which [unclear: iis] growing horror at the Indians' plight [unclear: might] well have instilled in him. The lines [unclear: ermit] this interpretation, but the [unclear: repercussions] on the other actors suggest it is he wrong one.

Michael McGrath as Carlos, for [unclear: example], finds his justified anger sinking into a [unclear: ponge]. West's wife, played by Marise [unclear: olgate] is supposed to feel cut off and bored by her husband's new interest. Yet she is given little to react off and her performance never becomes anything more than superficial.

I am not blaming Henwood for the shortcomings of the other actors, but it is apparent in nearly all the scenes he participates in that a basic lack of actor interaction exists, and he sits in the middle of it. It is worth adding that although Holgate is not entirely to blame for her lack of depth she gives considerably less impression than McGrath of even trying.

Ray Henwood Contemplates the Ghost of his Conscience.

Photo: Stephen McCurdy

Nevertheless, if lack of pace doesn't make good drama it does nurture in Savages a very credible thematic integrity. Feelings of liberal bourgeois guilt ooze out of nearly every corner of the play and combine easily with certain shocking facts about how the Indians are treated to rub the message well and truly home.

Banas has the last two lines repeated at the end of the play, straight after West has been shot by Carlos and we have [unclear: secti] on the screens and heard on the PA system an aeroplane bombing an Indian village. Above all else, we are asked to recognise the evil of one human, one society killing another human, another society,

"Savages" does not refer to the Indians, but to any group of people who can be so callous as to kill. This includes, with no qualitative difference, those who commit genocide on the Indians, the fascist death squad and the guerrillas who fight them. By a large stretch of the imagination it could also include the people and businesses who exploit the Brazilian people as a whole.

An admirable sentiment? Certainly it is true that he who dons the mask of his oppressor stands a better chance of survival, but by not repeating this part of the myth Banas has chosen to interpret the play in a broader sense.

What does this sentiment actually mean?

Every political system recog [unclear: es] the necessity for killing in certain circumstances. It is far more useful to us to examine the nature of those circumstances than to naively decry an abstract 'immorality'. This play can do no more than instil in us a sense of guilt, while actively encouraging us to believe there are no solutions.

In this respect the theme of Savages is fundamentally flawed. Carlos is supposed to be a Marxist, yet he is unable to supply West or the audience with even a general idea of what Marxism is. Heroes and Butterflies had the same fault: representing fascism as the sexual perversions of one individual is just as misleading as clothing "Marxism" in the garb of any energy young romantic.

Both fascism and Marxism claim to offer realistic analyses and solutions to the crisis in the political and economic system of a given country. I do not expect Hampton to support a Marxist analysis or any revolutionary programme, but I do expect that if a playwright wants us to understand his subject he should present it with as much fidelity as he is able. Marxism is, after all, supposed to be important to this play.

Carlos does have some fine speeches. In one of his best he tells West that just because he and his class believe in the things they have—money, power, etc—they mustn't expect "the oppressed to believe in misery and the starving to believe in hunger". As an expression of why he rejects West's ideology it is excellent, but it comes in answer to West saying, "I know you see the problems. The thing is, I just don't believe you have the solutions". Carlos' speech could well have prompted this question but it is not an answer to it.

In many other ways Carlos' position is undercut. A serious point will be set in a flippant context which denies it any importance. Right near the beginning McGrath reads his manifesto as if he didn't really subscribe to it and treats the slogans at the end, not as a proper culmination, but hut as throwaway lines.

It seems that both director and playwright have meant to suggest that there is no essential difference between Carlos and West: both are caught in the corruption of a system they have no power to affect (is it a coincidence that both wear black and white against the prevailing softer colours of the play?) Equating their predicament is valid within the play; the only trouble is that West is believable in the terms of what he represents, and Carlos is a man of straw.

Savages is a play for anyone who wants a good dose of guilt. It might be thought on occasions that Hampton is critical of West's ideas for their ineffectiveness, yet he ends up sharing them. He is also critical of everybody else's ideas with the result that the play comes dangerously close to being a futile gesture about what the playwright sees as a futile situation.

It does contain a powerful representation of what is happening to the Brazilian Indians and has many telling things to say about the crisis of urban Brazil. But their impact value doesn't actually lead anywhere. The play is more complex than Heroes and Butterflies but for my part the extra effort which goes into sorting out that complexity is not worth the result.

Simon Wilson