“Anoint the cunt with death!”This direct quote, in a way, pretty much sums up the caustic brilliance of Steven Berkoff’s East. An affronting, ingenious mixture of high and low, the sublime and the ridiculous, it poaches the elegant phrasing of Shakespeare and delivers it to the rhythm of bovver boys savagely putting the boot in. Berkoff does some fascinating things to language in this play, melding the theatrical, archaic and poetic with some of the ripest, most vibrant and obscure slang and linguistic idiosyncrasies of mid-20th Century East End London, all muddled together with music, lashings of vaudeville and blackly humorous mirth.
More a series of interrelated, oddly lyrical monologues and musical segues between a family of characters than a play with much traditional dialogue, East is a grubby, raucous beast that is uniquely of the theatre, making full use of the many conventions and capabilities particular to the medium. With direct address, mime, symbolism and song, it is a far cry from naturalism and yet conjures up a distinct world and its group of inhabitants that seems all the more real for it. To describe the content overly much risks simplifying or diminishing it, spoiling not only its details but undermining the experience of its revelation to an audience. Suffice it to say that it deals with the lives, the dreams, disappointments, violence, politics and especially sexuality of a collection of simultaneously endearing and repellent misfits inhabiting the working class landscape of a bygone (and, one suspects, somewhat imaginary) East End.
Having grown up there, Berkoff evidently has the cred to know what he’s talking about, although there is no doubting the extremes of theatrical exaggeration and artistic license at play - one can see that it was created in a frame of mind more concerned with savage satire than nostalgic homage. Described by the cast as something of an “exorcism” of his own youth, Berkoff certainly does not paint a quaintly pleasant picture, but it is one that is, pardon the cliché, incredibly rich in raw humanity.
This kind of uncensored, unapologetically visceral storytelling is in part what he means when Berkoff speaks of pursuing a “muscular theatre”. To some extent he also means it literally. A play like East is evidently not one that should be approached half-heartedly, for although the primary brilliance of the piece lies in its tremendously well-crafted language, the words themselves will not carry the work alone. An incredible amount of vigour and, well, vehemence must go into a show like this for it to have the proper impact, and this production most certainly displays it in abundance.
This cast, most of whom are reuniting for a third outing with the text, are exceptional, and (despite all being uniformly young, which is only a minor issue for Mum and Dad) have all managed to capture their role with ferocious enthusiasm. The copious energy that surges through their performances propels the play at a breakneck speed while infusing it with a captivating veracity. For whatever reaction one may have to the material, if you find it confronting, amusing, offensive or evocative, one thing is certain - you will never be bored.
As to the offensive content… well, yes. There’s rather a lot of it. Disclaimers near the door are not much use to those who have already bought their tickets, but let it be said that when it comes to offensiveness, this play has something for everyone. For starters, it probably has the highest UCPM (Utterances of “Cunt” Per Minute) of any play in the English language, so if you’re especially sensitive to that sort of thing, be advised. However, the effect transcends shock value, and upon entering this seedy, vibrant world you realise that the characters’ coarseness and their violent and sexual affronts are integral to Berkoff’s vision, his richly fascinating manipulation of language and culture. It is an enriching experience, for those with the constitution to take it on.
East is a play that stands the test of time. It may speak of the culture of a particular era and place, but it also speaks to us in a way that is surprisingly immediate and compelling, and this terrific production hits all the right notes.
EAST
by Steven Berkoff
Directed by John Bolton
Venue: Seymour Centre | Cnr Cleveland st & City Rd, Chippendale
Dates: 28 October – 22 November
Times: Tuesday 6.30pm (followed by Q&A); Wednesday 10.30am; Wednesday – Saturday 8.00pm
Tickets: $34 Adult; $25 Concession; Tight Arse Tuesdays $22; School Groups $20
Bookings: 02 9351 7940 or www.seymourcentre.com.au
