Clumsy ‘Saint Joan’ never really catches fire
Joan of Arc has sparked the imagination of myriad artists who have reimagined her in paintings, plays and films. For some she is an icon of religious devotion. For others, a feminist firebrand.
Stark Naked Theatre Company presents this ambivalent and fascinating figure in the Texas debut of New York-based Bedlam Theatre’s “Saint Joan,” an update of George Bernard Shaw’s 1924 play, staged at Spring Street Studios, directed by Eric Tucker and in performance through June 18.
In spite of Joan of Arc’s great legacy and the passion of these actors, Bedlam’s manic, mannered, and at times ungainly performance couldn’t reanimate the martyr who was burned at the stake nearly 600 years ago.
The peasant girl inspired by divine visions isn’t the only victim here as this production reveals how unkind time has been to many of Shaw’s works. While “Saint Joan” hasn’t fared as badly as, say, “Mrs. Warren’s Profession” it stifles the passion of martyrdom with pontification.
An entire scene, set in England, offers lecture (disguised as dialogue) about the history of feudalism and the rise of nationalism. Joan’s trial follows a seemingly endless monologue about mercy and justice. Shaw mimics the stultifying nature of legal proceedings and succeeds all too well, perhaps leading some audience members to yearn for the pyre.
It’s no wonder Bedlam tried to find the incendiary spirit in this inspiring tale. But this production’s tactics feel clumsy and awkward. Actors grimace, slobber, simper and shout — never have I heard more shouting, and for less reason.
The costuming is similarly inconsistent, sometimes pedestrian, sometimes excessive. The crowned king appears in an Izod sweater and red corduroy pants with dogs or horses printed on them. Joan is onstage with a motorcycle helmet while soldiers wear winter hats.
At various moments, the audience is asked to leave and bring their belongings. Briefly we sit on extremely uncomfortable benches down the hall, apparently to tell us we are now in England (not France) and so that the actor’s ear-splitting shouts can echo throughout the large halls of the Spring Street Studios.
Sadly, this is also a moment when the setting encourages members of the cast to deploy simply execrable and utterly unnecessary English accents.
At other moments audience members are positioned on the stage (as members of the jury) or the actors run behind the seats to shout their lines or sit among the audience. Sadly, this is a game of musical numbers with absolutely no winners. Such overused tactics suggest the audience is complicit and part of the drama, which seems fairly obvious.
Much of the weakness of this production lies in Samantha Steinmetz’s portrayal of Joan. She enters in search of her destiny looking like she has just jogged in from a zumba class.
At first this Joan seems a little cutesy, but as she settles into her destiny she also settles into a fairly predictable alternation between a tearful, quavering voice and a booming, righteous voice. There’s little between the extremes, although she has a few fine, quieter moments — as when she explains her preference for male dress and a soldier’s life, “I do not want to be thought of as a woman.”
The rest of the cast plays multiple roles, which is at times a struggle. John Russell is altogether overdone and clumsy as the nervous Dauphin and as the priggish and self-righteous John de Stogumber, the English chaplain who yearns for Joan to burn at the stake and then is devastated by the horrific event. Like Steinmentz, he lacks sufficient range.
Spencer Aste and Stephan Wolfert are clearly the senior players of this stage, bringing serious skill, experience and training to the production. And while they excel in many of their roles, too often they were set up to fail.
Wolfert’s Gilles de Rais (“Bluebeard”) grimaces and grunts as if he’s ready for “Shrek the Musical.” Aste switches awkwardly between two roles in one scene with a pair of glasses, a slight step to the side and a high-pitched voice.
Joan of Arc believed she had personal access to divine truth and a duty to take up arms, as a man would, to defend her nation. No wonder she proves so durable and fascinating.
If only this production of “Saint Joan” had managed a little more of that magic.