Dave, i've been thinking a lot about this show and about the reviews i read of it. Particularly having seen Song of the Goat and then reading the glowing reviews for that. I loved Macbeth and Shun Kin and i wrote this for you.
Disclaimer.
This is not a review, I don’t review. This is just what I think and feel with the aim of learning what makes theatre completely irresistible, gut wrenchingly moving and completely entertaining…
SHUN-KIN
Dave, I am a massive fan of Complicite, you know that, I have been influenced by their work for the past 10 years, I’ve loved A Minute Too Late, Measure for Measure, Street of Crocodiles, Mnemonic (I even had a go at directing this one), An Elephant Vanishes and A Disappearing Number amongst others. Complicite are exciting to me because they lay out all the storytelling options like a tool bag and then choose the best tools for any given job. They are always meticulous and usually full of play and joy.
I saw A Disappearing Number the first time it played at the Barbican and I remember enjoying it a lot, I remember feeling impressed by its language and the way it made maths so accessible. I then saw it again without Mcburney in the lead and I had a very different experience. I think the story had shifted quite a lot and now the whole thing felt more feasible and therefore I think maybe a little less exciting, but still great. I then had my third viewing at my local Picture House where I watched with a group of students and I realised that it is just a really brilliant, solid piece of work. Not my favourite though…
That title probably goes to Mnemonic I think. I just love the mixture of real life and real life legend. It is superbly put together and framed so gorgeously by the central relationship.
Shun-Kin may well be a new contender for the number 1 spot.
This is a story I didn’t know, a writer I didn’t know and time is didn’t know. All these things are very exciting to me, stepping into a world where I know nothing is really liberating. That sense of not knowing what is ahead but having a feeling you will be looked after is the most wonderful feeling as the lights go down. In this show I was hooked by the themes, the exploration of a woman’s role, the almost pre Christian philosophies, I was dazzled but not in the usual complicite way. I loved the use of music, I loved the brave staging and the stark style, but it was the performances and the story which made this piece stand out. In my memory, when I think about their previous shows I rarely think about the acting. Of course it is always an important part of Complicite’s history, but it is the way they choose to tell their stories which has always amazing me. This show combines a brave, and no less easy simplistic style with truly astonishing performances. Eri Fukatsu is versatile and powerful, Songha Cho fights every possible cliché and produces a gut wrenching performance and Yoshi Olda oversees it all like some kind of Japanese god. This is a seriously excellent cast.
The story, entirely in Japanese is told by an author character, a voice over artist and a elderly version of a servant central to the plot. Complicite love to play with perspective, they shift you through time effortlessly and seamlessly and it gives a real grandness to the story. It lets us feel ok to be watching from a modern position. It totally eliminates the possibility of the work being out of date or out of place. I think this duel reality, seen also in Mnemonic and Disappearing Number is brave, effective and potentially very personally affecting. I always play with an ensemble of performers but Complicite have done this brilliantly for years, this style leaves everything open to change. We can jump in and out of realities, we can really enjoy and manipulate the time periods this way. Shun-Kin never tells us when or where we are with any real specifics- but we know exactly where we are all the time.
The costume and the staging, particularly the sliding doors and the ever changing floors and paths are beautiful. The relationship which develops throughout between shadow and light is just the backdrop to this slow burning tale of domination and vanity, of the torture and the harmonies of love and the reclusive nature of humanity.
The use of surtitles may be a controversial one for such a visual company. I was lucky to have a really central seat and I didn’t find them at all annoying. I loved listening to the language, I loved hearing the performances through the tone of the voice and the subtle shifts in the delivery. The performers were clearly world class, they spoke and moved around the stage with an intoxicating precision and although I couldn’t understand a word they were saying if I wasn’t reading along, I felt privileged to be able to see performers who were all masters of the work and of their art. If I were able I would go again and just watch the action, now that I know the story. I would have hated the show if they were all struggling with English throughout, it is a Japanese story which should be told in Japanese. How often to we tour the world with Shakespeare in English- as it ‘should’ be heard. I think if you translate Shakespeare you lose the painstakingly crafted rhythms and the core of the stories and the humour which are unashamedly English. This was a Japanese story, which required the authenticity and rhythms which only a native tongue could bring. Surtitles may not be ideal but it didn’t detract from my enjoyment at all.
I have read blogs and comments about people not liking the fact that it is in Japanese- having worked so closely with Gecko for the last two and a bit years, and as I prepare to start work with them again in January I am very confident that language is a key player in the exchange of arts, culture and storytelling, especially in visual and physical storytelling. 7 actors speak 9 languages in The Overcoat and I think it works as a collaboration of cultures, a mixing pot of unique sounds which encourages incredible freedom of personal and cultural expression, particularly within the devising process. To sum up: I am a fan of Studio Ghibli, I watch Howls Moving Castle, Princess Mononoke and Spirited Away quite regularly, NEVER would I even contemplate switching to dubbing.
Language aside what I love about Shun-Kin is its sparse, almost bleak style. We have some mats and some bamboo and that’s about it. It’s sharp and harsh and hugely effective. Shun-Kin, as a puppet is simple and I loved the puppetry, a million miles away from what I saw at the National with Or you could kiss me. This is just as ‘real’ but far more theatrical puppetry, I really cared about Shun-Kin as a child, I felt for her despite the fact that she was a bit of a madam, the puppetry and voice work was really impressive and I think the interaction betweens people and puppets worked exceptionally well.
Yes, there were a few standard Complicite techniques along the way. The use of projections, which were not always 100% successful and at times I was a little thrown as to who I was meant to be following. But these are totally forgivable. The slow build to a dramatic finally is totally justified and I was shocked and stunned by the turns of the story. And after all lets not forget, these are Complicite techniques, they know how to use them better than anyone and if they want to show us a tree made of bamboo in that way then I have faith in their choices. I am confident they would have considered bigger and more dazzling imagery in the 10 years they had to work on the show, and if they didn’t think it was right for this show then I for one trust them.
Critics have said that it was too slow, to unadventurous and not up to Complicite’s usual punch. Well, I think all of these things are in the eye of the beholder, but what I am learning from seeing work and then reading reviews after is that critics often struggle to review what they see before them. If I had directed this piece, would things have been different?
Is it the place of the critic to tell us to go and see it, unless you have seen other Complicite stuff, if so wait for Disappearing Number to come back again… or is it their job to say, this is one of the most unique and exciting pieces available to audiences in London right now, even if it isn’t to my taste? I don’t know, I really don’t. I think critics play an essential part of the creative process but I cant figure out right now if they belong pre or post production. Should I have them in mind when making a show? If so, I run the hideous risk of all my shows being like Spring Awakening or Wicked and I would be very sad indeed. Or should I have them as an essential part of the evaluation process, giving an educated outside opinion… if that is the case and one day we make something as outstanding as Shun-Kin, which would be my greatest achievement, I would be heart broken. Should critics be employed as part of a creative team? Obviously they then couldn’t write about the show, but if we directors are making mistakes left right and centre, wouldn’t it be to the benefit of the box office and the audiences to know about this before we open?
As part of my learning, I am doing everything I can to approach every show I see with an open mind, I think fringe theatre teaches us that gold can be found anywhere you are willing to take time to look. I spend a lot of time watching not entirely perfect fringe theatre which is almost like a nursery for future greats, I have learned everything I know from trial and error and I think my work always strikes up an opinion, sometimes love sometimes fury… I saw Shun-Kin for Shun-kin and it blew me away. And if it isn’t perfect then perhaps that is because Mcburney, with all his fame and fortune is still experimenting and trying to find the truth at the centre of the work in a way more commonly found in small fringe venues. I like to think he is.
