THE TRANSATLANTIC MAGAZINE
THE TRANSATLANTIC MAGAZINE
Book by Conor McPherson; Music by Elvis Costello; based on the film by Pawel Pawlikowski
Almeida Theatre, Almeida St, London N1, until January 27, 2024
Irish playwright Conor McPherson did wonders with the Bob Dylan canon in the musical Girl from the North Country, and he’s done it again but this time with a hit Polish art house movie from a few years ago.
Pawlikowski’s film of the same name, set in Poland and France during the Cold War from the late ‘40s to the ‘60s, follows a musical director, Wiktor, who discovers a young singer, Zula, while trawling rural Poland collecting local folk music for a government project. This wonderfully lush and tender romance is presented as a play with music and the traditional Polish songs which featured in the film are enhanced here with artful scraps of song by the great Elvis Costello.
The mordant romance of Costello’s songs blends perfectly with Conor McPherson’s book, which is very faithful to the original. A deep melancholy infuses so much of McPherson’s work so he’s a great match for this material.
Rupert Goold’s direction is typically masterful, and he tells the story with great simplicity aided by Jon Bausor’s designs - all dusty, faded, gray proscenium arches. The film took inspiration from French New Wave cinema, and this is noticeable here too from the “Yé-Yé” nightclub dance scene in Paris to the tender tunes which very often recall The Umbrellas of Cherbourg. Ellen Kane’s polished choreography delivers rousing Polish folk dances and raucous Bill Haley jives, in tight Parisien bars.
The ensemble cast are great. Elliot Levy reliably deadpan as Kaczmarek, the promoter who sticks by Wiktor from the days of their tedious provincial touring to greater affluence and influence as Poland slowly opens up. Alex Young is memorable, and under-used, as Irena, who cannot bow to the demands of the propagandists, while Jordan Metcalfe doubles as Wiktor’s Parisien sidekick Michel and gum chewing, philistine Deputy Minister.
Wiktor’s fateful decision, under the spell of Zula, to move back to Poland and face the inevitable jail term and cruel punishment turns this into one of the great cinematic tales of passion such as The English Patient. It asks, would you do that for love?
This production will be noted however for the two leads. Luke Thallon, quickly coming into his own as one to (continually) watch gives a wonderfully nuanced portrait of the quietly withdrawn Wiktor, who doesn’t have the confidence to do original work, but works wonders with jazz variations on all those old Polish tunes. Anya Chalotra, from Netflix’s hit The Witcher, triumphs too as the troubled, angry Zula. Indeed, she could be a Godard heroine herself – pouty, morose, and seemingly unreachable.
The Cold War period was, of course, very fertile ground dramatically with its stories of thwarted lovers, foiled escapes, and the constant fear of betrayal, both personal and political. The piece beautifully explores that terrain and the huge emotional damage done by totalitarianism to the human soul. It’s a tender and warm piece too, and will stay with you long after.
