Burton Taylor Studio
4h Week, Tuesday 4 November – Saturday 8 November, 7.30pm
Whenever I go to see a piece of political theatre or theatre with some political implications – be it Antigone or Julius Caesar – I cringe at the thought that the director might forcibly update it to some big political issue of the day, be it CCTV cameras, the ASBO generation, or (in most cases) American foreign policy. Luckily, this time-neutral production of Accidental Death of an Anarchist promises to earn its merit relying mainly upon the play’s comedic brilliance, and leaving the spectator free to make any links to our present situation on her own.
The play is probably the best known by the Nobel laureate Dario Fo. It is based on a real event in 1969, when an anarchist protester, accused of being involved in a bombing massacre previously that year, died in police custody, falling to his death from a fourth story window of a police station in Milan. By the time Fo wrote the play the truth was emerging: the attack was in fact committed by the Italian far-right in a ‘red terror-esque’ scheme aimed at placing blame upon the politically emergent communists. Fo uses a pointed mix of farce and absurdity to expose the alleged complicity of the police and state in the affair.
A Maniac (Johnny Rhodes) is a prisoner held at the station, who manages to convince the policemen that he is a magistrate investigating the eponymous accidental death. As the policemen bend over backwards to explain the increasingly incriminating evidence the Maniac produces, the humour of the resulting situations ranges from the superintendent telling “What’s bad about a dead baby” jokes to pure slapstick, such as the loss of a glass eye, which is then slipped on. This production exploits the grotesque potential superbly: there are false limbs aplenty and we even get a full Scooby Doo style chase at one point.
The play’s attack on the authoritarian understructures of modern politics may feel a bit black-and-white at times. The characters are neatly divided into ‘goodies’ and ‘baddies’, with a dogged, “democracy-loving” journalist on one side and a pack of corrupt cops on the other. Still, this modern classic contains some cutting material, which is excellently conveyed by Polar Bear’s production.
4 Stars
