Theatre and politics – TOP and POT rot?

Is it any wonder that the theatre of politics of late has been lacklustre at the very least, when the politics of theatre means producers seek to please than strive to push for change?

Last week, there was a suggestion made that the State of Politics (SOP) in Sri Lanka today shared uncanny similarities with the condition in which Colombo’s English-language Theatre (ELT) finds itself these days… https://www.ft.lk/columns/Theatre-or-politics-Caesar-s-ambition-must-be-made-of-far-more-sterner-stuff/4-753989.

For one, that SOP and ELT both cater to small elites rather than tailoring their fare to meet the needs of a greater common good. For another, that their respective fan bases entertain no bigger picture than the passing needs of these shrewdly limited stakeholders, and ferociously guard the ‘in crowd’ from audience – voter and theatergoer – displeasure. 

Then again, that the offerings dished out by ELT and SOP – far from feeding the hungry masses in both demographics – reek of trite recipes, old policies, recycled jokes, weak laughter and light entertainment instead of education, edification and greater efficacy in the national interest.

Last not least: that the adaptive populism of both arenas has come at a cost to both sets of ‘operations’ – the Politics of Theatre (POT) and the Theatre of Politics (TOP) alike. 

Opportunity cost; because the time, money, energy, efforts etcetera invested could or should be made of “sterner stuff” – as the most recent production of a musical loosely based on a classic play was not. 

Also real cost; voters and theatergoers in tandem continue to be hoodwinked, short-changed and charged the price of full admission – only to suffer the fallout from frail POTs and fragile TOPs, both of which make the State of the Nation (SON) seem “alone and palely loitering”.

Today, further reflection – as with “the coming of wisdom with time” – has yielded a further set of un-salutary resonances.

To wit, TOP is guilty of false advertising. Voters are shown devious and often dubious manifestoes. Once voted in, the devious manifestoes fail to translate into solid policy while the dubious ones – as with the infamous fertiliser ban that went hand-in-hand with the fiscal and monetary policies of a former regime – cause havoc and create “unprecedented disaster”. 

That’s often a kind term for the type of fiasco that ensues when playwrights’ creativity runs to hype before the event, all types of hoopla during the production run, and a pathetic overreliance on feeble puns and borrowed stagecraft.

Producers don’t understand the playwright. Cast and crew cater to a cosy, comfy fandom of family and friends. Few if any read the “damning with faint praise” that passes for passive-aggressive reviews. The uncomfortable result is the condemnation of the critic stricken by the shadow that has fallen between the larger role of theatre amongst the body politic and the apathy of impresarios majoring on production values instead of a better, brighter SON for everyone.  

TOP, like POT, relies on under-educated audiences with naturally limited or deliberately lowered expectations. The other day, I overheard someone say that voters – when asked if they’d prefer to elect politicians who are totally clean, utterly corrupt or an ungodly mix of ‘80% clean and 20% corrupt’ – would prefer to vote for their representatives who are ‘80% clean and 20% corrupt’; because then, they can ‘get their thing done’ whilst ‘the country doesn’t get affected too badly’. 

The POT-ty equivalent is directors who don’t want their audiences to read the original script (if it is Shaw or Shakespeare or Chekhov – or God help us, Dario Fo – who are being put on) and playwrights who want the audience not to delve too deeply into the source of their creativity for fear of being discovered in flagrante delicto: that is to say, in borrowed plumes.

TOP, and POT, as well as SON (which isn’t shining too well these days) all depend on showmanship, smoke and mirrors, and sleight of hand. It’s like the sun – now you see it, now you don’t, mostly you don’t.

The theatre of politics puts up strong men (as in the past) – or pretenders to the throne (like perhaps in the present) to knock down the erected straw men of their opposition antagonists and civil society critics.

The politics of theatre puts on glitzy and glamorous productions – and hopes that thespian commentators and a theatergoing capital’s citizens won’t notice a distinct lack of content, significance, interpretation and meaningfulness; amidst all the adulation, braggadocio and chutzpah.  

Is it any wonder that the state of the nation of late has been lacklustre at the very least? 

And lacking in a certain je ne sais quoi, since politicians who attended plays went home for good?

And producers and directors and stagey maestros who mistake standing ovations as being a measure of their success – instead of the state of their audiences’ minds months after a night out ends – have assumed the mantle? 

(Editor-at-large of LMD | ‘A play is the thing to capture the conscience of the king’)