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Baryshnikov as a car? Well, stranger things have happened.
There are many strange happenings in Forbidden Christmas or the
Doctor and the Patient, which is a fairy tale, an anti-Stalinist polemic, a religious
tract or all the above, depending on what you choose to take from it. Commissioned by the
Baryshnikov Foundation from innovative Russian playwright-puppeteer Rezo Gabriadze, the
96-minute entertainment is currently on a world tour.
But back to that automobile. The
story such as it is -- takes place in Gabriadzes native town in the Soviet
Republic of Georgia. The time is the 1950's. Chito, a sailor (Mikhail Baryshnikov),
returns from duty to find the girl he loves (Pilar Witherspoon) married to another man. In
despair, he throws himself into the sea and drowns, only to be rescued by a passing angel
(the graceful and versatile Luis Perez, who keeps popping up to save the day). When Chito
comes to, he is fixated on the car which bore his beloved from him. So, fastening a
cranking device to his shirt and donning a pair of galoshes to serve as tires, he becomes
his own vehicle. Baryshnikov is never as funny as when he turns that key, revs up with
every muscle in his body vibrating and takes off. All this happens without a word being
spoken. Its the back story to the main piece and it takes a full 20 minutes, mostly
because Gabriadze, both as playwright and director, seems to favor slow motion. In spite
of some really charming scenic devices (also by Gabriadze), such as waves turned by hand
while a little boat floats merrily atop them and the passage of time indicated by
alternating suns and moons on sticks, it gets a bit tedious.
Things dont speed up that
much when the real action begins, seven years later. Chito, comfortably ensconced as the
town madman, is still chugging along as a car. On Christmas Eve, the town doctor (John
DeVries) falls into an exhausted sleep after making his endless rounds, only to be
awakened by Chito who summons him to the side of a sick child. The rest of the play
involves their journey across town, losing each other and reconnecting, running into other
people on the street and, in the doctors case, in dreams. Some of it is lovely, a
sort of ballet with a pair of electrical transformers being a case in point except
there doesnt seem to be a point to this and much of the other extraneous business.
The basic sense of the thing--sickness
as a metaphor for life in Stalinist Russia, delusion as the only sanity possible when an
entire society has gone mad and the power of love and belief to transform a grim
reality--comes through loud and clear, if a bit simplistically, without all the extra
window dressing. But the extra effects, moving screens that set the time and place, tiny
Christmas trees (and one human one) being placed and re-placed on the stage, a puppet and
wondrous lighting by Jennifer Tipton, do contribute to the magical effect of it all. Forbidden
Christmas is pretty to look at. But not so pretty to hear. A track of what one must
assume are Georgian folk songs plays pretty much throughout and makes one really grateful
not to have grown up in Georgia.
The cast is excellent, Lopez being
the standout. DeVries grumbles his way through the doctors role, appropriately
enough and Witherspoon has a sympathetic scene at the end. But, of course, all eyes are on
Chito, the man who thinks he is a car. Baryshnikov exhibits his usual boyish charm in the
role, seeming much younger than his 56 years. The iconic ballet dancer exercised his
acting chops long before he hung up his dancing shoes, in the movies The
Turning Point and White Nights and, most recently, on the small screen
as Alexander Petrovsky, the suave but narcissistic painter who was Sarah Jessica
Parkers penultimate lover in the closing season of Sex and the City. Misha may indeed
have a whole new career in front of him. But he deserves a better vehicle than Forbidden
Christmas.
June 17, 2004 - Suzanne Weiss