Many theatre companies have a distinctive style, tone and aesthetic. You can immediately recognise their work, even without their names above the title. But that isn’t the case with the splendidly maverick Stan’s Cafe, who use whatever tools and style seem appropriate, whether it’s tonnes of rice, as in Of All the People in the World, or bicycle-powered lighting, as in Home of the Wriggler.
It makes every show a surprise, even the ones that don’t quite come off. Film was a feature of the company’s early work, and they return to it in this piece, which is clearly influenced by Jean Baudrillard’s ideas about how we experience reality, and the Japanese figure of the benshi. In the early days of Japanese cinema, before the arrival of talkies, benshi were employed to explain the movie to the audience. Such was the power of the benshi that they became as important as the stars flickering up on the silver screen. But when sound was added to the movies, the benshi’s authority dwindled, and they were dumped.
Here, Craig Stephens’ benshi, glittering in an orange kimono, acts as our narrator for a movie shot in Tokyo that tells of a young fisherman travelling to the city to meet a woman. Just as the camera directs us to focus on certain things, so the benshi’s narrative, and his sly asides in which the history of the actors becomes entwined with the characters they play, influence what we see and think. But is he telling the truth, is there even such a thing, and who owns the story?
It’s a neat idea that springs some surprises. But too often the show is a cold academic illustration rather than a full, Russian-doll-style interrogation of the nature of reality. It’s only in the final (inaudible) moments that the tensions and interplay between the filmed and the live are witty enough to grab the attention and give reality a good shake.
• At Warwick Arts Centre until 24 April. Box office: 024-7652 4524. Then touring.
