Lots of theater companies use animation and video projection. None uses it quite like the British troupe called 1927. The company has combined vintage style with sophisticated technology to carve out a unique niche in the theater.
1927's newest play, Golem, has just opened in London to rave reviews.
Like most plays by 1927, this production features just a few actors and live musicians. A multitude of other people, animals and eerie, stylized scenes are part of the show. But they are all animated, projected onto a blank white sheet behind the live performers.
"The animation is both the set and the environment which the performers perform in," explains 1927's co-artistic director Paul Barritt. "But it also acts as a character within the play as well."
The character of the Golem comes from ancient Jewish folklore — a lump of clay magically brought to life to protect the inhabitants of a city. This play puts the character in a different context. The new story is a parable about technology taking over our lives. The title character starts as a servant and ends up the master.
"Golem can talk! Golem can rhyme. Golem was playing up before bedtime," the character intones in a deep, unthreatening voice early in the show. Over time, Golem encourages his owner to buy new outfits and find new girlfriends. In his hollow, lumbering way, the clay man offers uncontroversial opinions on culture: "I adore Benedict Cumberbatch."
Things become more intense from there.
Barritt used stop-motion animation to create his Golem out of actual clay. He painstakingly filmed Golem speaking, walking, opening an umbrella, falling asleep and more. Then he projected Golem onto his crazy handmade collages of rundown cityscapes.
"These are kind of loosely based on photos I took in downtown LA," says Barritt. "Neon lights and this sort of rundown, knackered city."
Barritt is a magpie, clipping interesting bits that he stumbles upon and cobbling them together to create unnervingly detailed worlds. In a restaurant scene, Barritt took images from 1970s recipe cards featuring unappetizing incarnations of gelatin.
"They're beautiful things to admire," says Barritt. Then he clarifies that by "beautiful," he means, "Absolutely horrific. I don't know how anybody ate this stuff at all."
The show's production manager is Helen Mugridge, who juggles the show's 480 video cues. With a click of the computer, Mugridge turns Golem's head and makes street lights switch from red to green.
In a typical scene, a live actor walks down the street with Golem, while a pianist and drummer perform the soundtrack onstage. The music has a jazzy, loping beat, almost like a silent film.
Mugridge demonstrates one scene where Golem and his owner are walking to work.
"Now there's a street clown coming up behind him," says Mugridge as she punches buttons on the computer. "And Golem thumps the street clown in the face, and he falls to the floor. And he starts walking again, and now they're sliding down the hill and into the office."
Through all of that, one actor walks in place at the center of the stage. Everything else, from the clown to the hill to the office, is on the screen behind him. It's a unique challenge for a performer.
"You have to use your imagination so much more than I think I realized," says Lilian Henley. She acts, plays the piano and wrote the music for the show. "You've got to bring the animations to life," she says. "It can't just look like a flat surface which is not related to the live action."
"The margins for error are so small," says actor Will Close, who also plays drums in this production.
If a performer stands an inch in the wrong direction, it can ruin the illusion of interacting with the characters on the screen. "It's always trying to avoid those little infringements as much as possible, because that's what creates the seamless feel of the whole show," Close explains.
1927 has made a brand out of this kind of theater. Its previous shows have toured the world, including the United States. Golem is scheduled to visit China, Russia and France after it closes its initial run at the end of January. It is likely to go farther, having received five-star reviews in London.
"1927 is officially the sexiest theatre company in town," declared the Evening Standard in its review of the play.
There is a paradox inherent in this production. Although the play is a cautionary tale about technology, it could not exist without incredibly sophisticated technology. Creator Barritt embraces that contradiction. Technology itself is not the problem, he says. The problem is "this aggressive way technology is used as control."
Transcript
STEVE INSKEEP, HOST:
A play with a dark message about technology makes its point with the innovative use of technology. The performance comes from a British theater company called 1927. Part of its act is like nothing you could have seen in 1927 and, for that matter, like nothing else you'd see on stage today. Their shows have traveled the world. NPR's Ari Shapiro reports on their newest play in London called "Golem."
ARI SHAPIRO, BYLINE: Lots of theater companies use animation. None of them uses it quite like this.
(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)
SHAPIRO: Any play by 1927 will have just a few actors on stage standing in front of a big, white screen. On that screen, the animator Paul Barrett creates eerie, stylized worlds.
PAUL BARRETT: The animation is both the sets and the environment which the performers are performing in. But it also acts as a character in the play as well.
SHAPIRO: The company's new play, "Golem," is a parable about technology taking over our lives. The title character is a giant, clay man who starts as a servant and ends up the master.
(SOUNDBITE OF PLAY, "GOLEM")
ROSE ROBINSON: (As Golem) Golem can talk. Golem can rhyme. Golem was playing up before bedtime.
SHAPIRO: The character comes from ancient Jewish folklore - a lump of clay magically brought to life to protect the inhabitants of a city. This story puts the character in a different context. Barrett used stop-motion animation to create his Golem out of actual clay. He filmed that, then projected it on top of crazy, animated collages of run-down cityscapes.
BARRETT: These are kind of loosely based on all these photos that I took in downtown LA actually, quite a lot of it - sort of neon lights and all of this, like, run-down, knackered city.
SHAPIRO: The show's production manager is Helen Mugridge. With a click of the computer, she turns Golem's head and makes streetlights go from red to green.
HELEN MUGRIDGE: There are 480 video cues in the show.
SHAPIRO: In a typical scene, a live actor walks down the street with Golem, while musicians perform the soundtrack on stage.
MUGRIDGE: He's on his way to work, and now there's a street clown coming up behind them. And Golem thumps the street clown in the face, and he falls to the floor. And they start walking again, and now they're sliding down the hill and into the office.
SHAPIRO: Through all of that, one actor is walking in place at the center of the stage. And everything else, from the clown to the hill to the office, is on the screen behind him. It's a unique challenge for a performer.
LILIAN HENLEY: You have to use your imagination so much more than I think I realized.
SHAPIRO: Lilian Henley acts, plays the piano and wrote the music for the show. One of her costars is Will Close, who also plays drums in this production.
WILL CLOSE: And the margins for error are so small.
SHAPIRO: He says if an actor stands an inch in the wrong direction, it can ruin the illusion of interacting with the characters on the screen.
CLOSE: And it's always constantly trying to avoid those little infringements as much as possible because it's - that's what creates the seamless feel of the whole show.
SHAPIRO: "Golem" is a cautionary tale about technology, even though the play itself depends on incredibly sophisticated technology. Creator Paul Barrett embraces that contradiction. He says technology itself is not the problem, the problem is the way technology can take over. The play runs through the end of January. Then "Golem" takes off for China, Russia, France and the world. Ari Shapiro, NPR News, London. Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.
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