Oleanna
Oleanna
The structural symmetry and almost Aeschylean formality of David Mamet’s Oleanna is at powerful odds with the messiness of its themes. Mamet’s drama of the changing relationship between an American college professor and his female pupil explores the ultimate role of education, the collision of different sets of sexual politics and – most fundamentally – the pliability of language. Nicholas Bishop and Charlie Covell as John and Carol give distinct and highly versatile performances.
Quite appropriately, there is never any real sense of empathy or understanding between them. John’s somehow classically American intellectual bravado – we even the audience is inclined to find tedious at points – mutates into helpless frustration as Carol accuses him first of sexual harassment and then, following a confrontation in his office, of attempted rape.
Conversely, she transforms from the typically gauche, self-doubting little girl of freshers’ week to the irritatingly cool champion of the feminist ‘group’. The power reversal is arguably a little too complete, but the naturalism of Bishop and Covell’s performances (their American accents are superbly honed) helps to counter any sense of artifice.
Their authenticity derives in no small part from Mamet’s dialogue, which wavers distinctively between hesitance and assurance, in minute reflection of the larger power struggle in operation.
The pair’s radically different conceptions of the definitions of education, provocation and male sexuality are at the roots of Carol’s accusations; as he challenges her motives, she pointedly demands “Who’s kidding who here?” While neither character is especially likeable, our sympathy is largely with the accused: Carol, for all her intelligence, appears chillingly self-righteous, conforming to some of the worst feminist stereotypes.
Director Sarah Branthwaite has manipulated the shape of the stage to thrust cast and audience intimately together. The simple staging cleverly accentuates props such as the telephone on John’s desk, which in its frequent rings represents both a propeller and a staller of the action – the ultimate agent of control.
The cast successfully maintains the pace of the drama – whose more discursive speeches might otherwise appear to be a meandering surplus – making this formally simple work a disquieting experience in the viewing.
28th Apr 2005