A joint production of Ranga Shankara and Schnawwl-National Theatre of Germany (called Do I know U?), Boy With A Suitcase is a bildungsroman that follows Naz as he is sent off on a bus by his parents towards the land of "milk and honey". What follows is the kind of arduous adventure Naz’s hero Sindbad could proudly put on his resume: gunfire, wild animal chase, sweatshop, escape, dangerous crossing of water, crawling reach to the destination, disillusionment and eventual acceptance. The lines between fact and fable are fuzzy – we are never quite sure which era or which city we are looking at. And that’s all right – the point is not the place and time but the indomitable spirit of survival.

The play wears its emotions lightly. You’d expect Naz to be devastated at the separation from his parents and his friend Krysia (Simone Oswald), but the young lad takes it all in good humour. Boy With A Suitcase does not also sweat over the minutiae of the journey. The stories that Naz relates are often better fleshed out than the events in his real life. If you go on a logical loophole-finding trip, you will gather a heap. The best way to enjoy Boy With A Suitcase is to play along with it – this work isn’t interested in filling the context with ordinary facts, it would rather fill the context with music. And how well it does that! The musicians aren’t backstage but visible to the audience, often walking around the actors strumming their instruments. You’ll catch yourself wondering what kind of music they will come up with for the next situation. Here is a classic case of using one’s strengths to maximum effect. Naz’s mother (MD Pallavi) has a wonderful singing voice and, while there is no real need to, she treats us to her full-throated rendition of Kesariya Balama. Truly the stuff of gooseflesh.

Two actors play Naz, one as the narrator (David Benito Garcia), the other as the actual boy (Shrunga BV). The narrator is the stronger performer of the two and tides over the more tricky bits in Naz’s role.

The closing note is positive and realistic. The story arc with Krysia, which seemed fated for an abrupt end, is also reconciled on the same note. Naz’s climactic letter to his parents is more honest, more gutsy than the one his elder sibling wrote years ago. With such gains of the journey as courage and wisdom, the empty suitcase does seem worth regrets after all.

The course for 2010 starts on 22nd Oct 2010, spread over six days around two weekends.

Culture critic Sadanand Menon will spearhead the Theatre and Arts Appreciation Course 2010. The speakers this year include Girish Karnad, Bombay Jayashri (Carnatic Music), Leela Samson (Bharatanatyam), Anand Patwardhan (Documentary Films), Kavalam Narayana Panikkar, and N Pushpamala (Visual Art).

The participants will also get to watch three plays and review them along with the directors of the plays. There are more good things in store – read the complete details on Ranga Shankara’s Facebook page.

The fee is Rs. 5000/- with a generous discount for students – if you are a student, you need to pay only 20% of the regular fee.

I have registered – have you? Write to rstheatre@gmail.com to get the registration form. The seats are limited, so don’t wait too long.

Looking for volunteers

An announcement on behalf of Ranga Shankara:

Ranga Shankara is looking for volunteers for their Theatre Festival 2010, for coordinating the sub events, publicity, hospitality, etc.  It means “3 hours of back breaking work” (as they call it!), everyday, for 20 days.

If you want to be involved with the Theatre Fest as a volunteer, give Ranga Shankara a call on 9538997551.

Nino D’Introna and Giacomo Ravicchio’s Robinson and Crusoe is the type of play that takes a simple situation and explodes into asking questions that are true and basic to human nature. When two soldiers from different lands find themselves wrecked atop a roof on an island, they do what seems only natural at first – fight for survival, be suspicious of the other and be on a constant vigil. Whoever loses track loses this Russian roulette.

They speak different languages, eat different things, listen to different kinds of music and sing different songs. Yet once they are done trying to fight each other and have come to terms with their physical parity they are left with little choice but to try and coexist. It’s then the human spirit prevails and demolishes all boundaries and identities that supposedly define us. They now understand each other, even though they continue to speak different languages.

The genius of the script lies in the fact that it is timeless; purely because it leverages on basic human themes that will exist forever – irrespective of how advanced and technologically savvy we get. That struck me as marvelous. One can’t help but observe the shrewdness with which the script thumps its relevance in a world where we are all too keen to outline identity and race. It doesn’t mock us, but reminds us of our inherent xenophobia.

The production, directed by veteran Gracias Devraj, offered a high-energy blast that was gripping from start to finish. The set was a roof top atop a blue sheet that sprawled across the stage symbolizing the ocean surrounding the island. As interesting as that was, we were then introduced to the two soldiers who were abandoned on the island, left only to fend off each other. The fight sequences were choreographed commendably and the actors’ effective execution saved it from the pitfall of looking amateurish and lame.

The points that stood out for me in this production were the brilliant use of music, lights and the fact that one of the characters speaks gibberish which by itself alienates the audience from the character and instills the same dread and fear that the English speaking character goes through. There are many moments in the play that make you applaud the script and direction. The scene where both characters get drunk and laugh and dance while it is raining bombs and bullets from the sky is just heart-warming, and an announcement of their victory over fear of war and death.

Having said that, the gibberish character seemed to have been played a tad one-dimensionally. He seemed high on energy all the time and one did not get a chance to have a look at the softer side of his personality. Doesn’t he miss his son whose picture he showed off so proudly? The tone seemed constant through the play almost making the character seem inhuman.

The other point that could have been done better was the build up of their friendship and the eventual parting. One does not feel for the parting more than the script permits one to. The execution falters somewhere in getting us to feel the friendship and the pain of the tragedy on discovering that their homes are in opposite directions.

But these are just minor glitches on a fantastic production that gives you a classic theatre experience. Go enjoy the fights, the laughter, the fear and the pain. In seventy crisp minutes, Robinson and Crusoe promises to take you through a roller coaster of emotions and even though the end is a tad saddening you applaud the playwrights for having taken the more logical route rather than orchestrating a happy ending. This one’s a winner all the way.

How? Let me count the ways.

Over The Counter

Tickets can be bought at Ranga Shankara (36/2 8th Cross II Phase J P Nagar Bangalore 560 078), at their ticket counter right at the entrance. Tickets are usually available for the entire month, soon after the month’s schedule is announced.

Payment mode is cash only.

The ticket counter timings are: 10AM-12.30PM and 5PM-7.30PM; Monday is a holiday.

Telebooking

The telebooking number is mentioned against each play on the Ranga Shankara schedule. This number is specific to the play/troupe, it isn’t a common Ranga Shankara number. It’s also prominently advertised in press releases, websites etc. Look for it, it isn’t easy to miss.

After telebooking, you need to reach Ranga Shankara around 30mins in advance to collect the tickets from the theatre troupe, else they’re released for current booking.

Payment is to be made after reaching the venue when tickets are collected. Payment mode is cash only.

Online @ IndianStage

The site indianstage.in gives us the luxury of booking play tickets online. Click on this link to find out what’s playing at Ranga Shankara currently, and book tickets online with your credit card. There is a small service charge for each ticket.

Others

Theatre troupes tie up with other outlets to sell their tickets. Landmark bookstore, Cafe Coffee Day, KC Das are some popular sellers. Keep a watch on the ads released by the theatre group to know which outlets would be selling the tickets you want.

Ranga Shankara, the well-known theatre facility in Bangalore, is where most of my play-watching happens.

1. Be on time. A 7.30pm show will start exactly at 7.30pm. The doors shut when the show starts, and no matter who you are or what your compelling reasons for being late are, you will not be permitted entry after the doors close. No exemptions, no refunds for late comers. Don’t risk it, be on time.

   I speak from experience of commuting across half the city for an hour, and then missing a show by being two minutes late.

2. Queue quickly. Ranga Shankara has free seating. Whoever enters first gets to take the better seats, which means in a house-full show the late entrants don’t have much choice. Keep your ears open for the first bell to queue (that’s usually 7.10pm for the 7.30pm show), and join the line early.

   Another bell goes off at around 7.20pm. That’s when the front entry doors close and the back doors open. In a house-full show, even if you reach a few minutes after entry starts, you might have to sit far off the stage. For popular shows and on weekends, try to reach before 7.10pm.

3. Choose the best seats. Ranga Shankara has a thrust stage i.e. one that juts out and the audience sits on three sides around it. The auditorium accommodates approximately 300 people.

   The best seats are in the centre, close to the stage. My preference is the 3rd row. Some choose to take the first or second rows – I don’t as I enjoy the play better with a slightly wider view. (Beware, if you sit bang in front of the actors in a comic performance, you are often a butt of their jokes. It isn’t for the thin-skinned!)

   Tip for the gang that makes early entry, and runs up to grab seats in the very last row: In a hall for performing arts, the grading of seats is just the opposite of that in a movie hall. For watching plays, make a beeline for the rows in front – the last rows are the worst!

4. Dine at the cafe. The Ranga Shankara cafe serves yummy food – don’t leave without eating.  Their serving times slow down on crowded days, but you can avoid the wait if you place your order before the show. The food will be ready for you when the show ends.

5. Book tickets in advance. There was a time when one could land up at Ranga Shankara at 7pm, with not a doubt about getting tickets for the evening show. Today, high-profile plays like The Blue Mug get sold out weeks before the show date. If you reach the theatre facility without tickets hoping to watch the current show, chances are you will be disappointed. 

   Now that online booking options are available (more on the ways to book in a follow-up post), reserving your tickets in advance has become quite convenient. Make the most of that facility.

Do you have your own tips to add? Write a comment below.

To know more about Ranga Shankara, visit their official website.

Girish Karnad’s Bikhre Bimb

So, I have a whole range of good commentary on the play to link to – but most of the reviews reveal the plot. If you haven’t seen the play yet, I would urge you to watch it without knowing the story beforehand.

After you’ve done watching the play, do come back and read through these articles:

From ‘Spaniard In The Works’: The author of this well-written piece is not a fan of theatre in general but is pleasantly surprised by Bikhre Bimb.

Mumbai Theatre Guide Review: Written by the editor of Mumbai Theatre Guide, this article touches upon interesting details within the play such as the lighting and the joke about theory-based exams.

Time Out Mumbai: More background info than review, but worth a read. Among other things, it includes an answer to the question why Karnad’s protagonist is a woman and not a man.

Rangashankara

The hi-tech props for Bikhre Bimb made me stop in the tracks. Behind a table and chair near the edge of the stage, dozens of TV sets were arranged in the background. A large TV set was suspended above.

When Arundhati Nag walked onto the stage, apparently talking to a cameraman in the direction of the audience, we almost didn’t realize that the play had begun. [In fact, a person in the audience responded to her greeting, which was part of the act, with a loud ‘Good evening’, briefly unsettling the actress.]

What followed is a one-actor (two-actor? I won’t explain that ambiguity – watch it!) show that took us you through a web of emotions, subjects and messy relationships.

Arundhati Nag plays the role of Manjula Nayak, an author who is invited to the TV studio for an interview. The interview spends good time on the subject of regional languages versus English, and you expect that this is what the play is about. But that turns out to be a red herring and the play takes a twist soon.

[A cautionary note for 'big-chunkers': if you want Action, you might get restless in this play. This one is all about the details.]

Manjula Nayak’s character is very layered. She is rather a villain, yet you cannot help sympathize with her. It is to the playwright (Girish Karnad)’s credit that he injects realness not just into this character but also the characters that never make a physical appearance on stage – the husband and the sister.

The sudden shifts in Manjula’s emotional state are, again, very well-written. She is chatty and sharing confidences one moment, then with the next thing said to her, back she goes to being angry and suspicious.

Arundhati Nag carries this extremely challenging role with finesse. When the play was over, the audience gave her a standing ovation of the kind I have not witnessed for any other play.

I’ve seen this play twice. There is a jaw-dropping moment towards the start of the play. The second time, I wanted to watch closely what goes on before that moment. The play felt as good the second time round.

Bikhre Bimb is a serious play in its broad theme and yet funny in its minutiae. You’ll find yourself chuckling over and repeating to others, its quips about the state of education in English literature, Indian husbands, and Bollywood’s prepossession with the "guy in the mirror". Even the final nail in the coffin, Manjula’s kitchen table remark, has a touch of the comic about it.

Another aspect worth mentioning is the language. The Hindi is more polished than what we normally hear in movies/theatre or in conversation. Nowadays, chaste Hindi seems to be spoken only in mockery; I loved the fact that Bikhre Bimb uses it without feeling the need to explain why.