Élizaviéta Bam
Kate Swade
Theatrefest, Edinburgh, Monday, August 4, 2003

“My shoulders are like the rising sun.” “My legs are like cucumbers.” This is a typical example of the intelligibility of the dialogue in Oleg Kisseliov’s mysterious and atmospheric production.

Based on a 1927 play by the Russian Daniil Harms, this play has been translated into English from French by this Quebecois company. Some French dialogue is retained, enriching the overall effect of time- and placelessness. There is some sly humour, and the characters are all by turns menacing and comic. The poster promises “pure delirium in the theatre of the absurd”, and it delivers wonderful surrealism, as the passionate enthralling cast move effortlessly through the simple and effective set, dancing, clambering, arguing and fighting with cartoon-like agility. The music, from 1920’s jazz to Mongolian throat singing, is always used impeccably.

It is almost entirely unintelligible, yet this doesn’t matter: there is more than enough to take in without needing a story. It seems that there are some interesting meditations on individuality and society under the surface, but they prove quite inaccessible on the first viewing. Élizaviéta Bam satisfies, beguiles and disturbs, yet doesn’t quite succeed in communicating its point.

Thrill: Operatic death rattles.
Spill: At an hour and twenty minutes it’s too long.

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