MARAT/SADE is not for sissies. A play within a play, it’s set in a Paris mental asylum in 1808 where the Marquis de Sade is directing a production to be performed by the asylum inmates.
First performed in 1963, the play is a depiction of class struggle and human angst. This is why it was incorporated into UJ Arts &
Culture’s 2014 programme, which celebrates 20 years of freedom in South Africa.
And more than this, the programme is aimed to be a “mediation on the ideals of freedom from a global perspective.” That MARAT/SADE reigns supreme among the programme’s other productions is indisputable. It pays homage to the French Revolution – the play within the play recounts the murder of politician and radical journalist Jean-Paul Marat, who was stabbed to death by Charlotte Corday. Marat, a Jacobin, played a major role in the purge of the more liberal Girondins, with whom Corday sympathised.
The inmates are excited to be performing a play, even more so under the direction of the famed and feared Marquis de Sade, who for most of
the first act sits with eyes wide and teeth exposed, strapped to a restraint chair. To say that two hours of screaming, jumping, gurgling and gyrating is uncomfortable is an understatement. Seconds of monologue are interrupted by screams of support and solidarity; and sometimes the threat of a Taser gun, resulting in the “mob” dispersing, each individual occupying a corner while clapping their hands, chewing their lips or touching themselves. All are clad in white clothing, and some is stained with blood in unsightly places. Desperate people; imprisoned, confused, and sad.
Marat’s conversations with the Marquis are thought-provoking and interesting, but they’re long and not easy to follow. Mothusi Magano’s
performance of the Marquis is convincing, he’s frightening and sick and intelligent and madly sane all in one; and the inmates’ doting over him makes this almost unfathomable man all the worse. Marat (played by Jacques Bessenger) takes centre stage – literally. He sits in a bath of various minerals and medicines, to soothe his severe skin disease which he suffered with most of his life.
That the metaphor is obvious, is obvious. The play won the Tony Award in 1965 and I’m wondering if my opinion is warranted. But I’ve heard
the word bourgeoisie a dozen times, and the French Revolution as the quintessential symbol of liberty, equality, fraternity; is boring. I know its multi-faceted faces are applicable yesterday, today and tomorrow and I don’t need a reference to Zimbabwe to send the message home.
I didn’t have to search for meaning in this play. And I think I wanted to; perhaps I needed to. Perhaps we in the 21st century have become too abstract, and we don’t want words to tell us what we’re looking at. But if you do want words, and you feel you can cope with a lengthy display of mental illness, go see the play – you’ll find it relevant, poignant and deeply disturbing.
MARAT/SADE is running at UJ’s Arts Centre Theatre until 26 April.
