This critic is one of those people whose knees begin to wobble at the discussion of any kind of physical infirmity, let alone the mention of a procedure or appearance of blood. Releases of physical fluids from any part of the body also feature low on the popularity scale. Even so, very little that takes place on stage ever really turns his weak stomach.
That is because, although we are happy to suspend disbelief as soon as the house lights go down; everybody knows that while Hamlet is killed at the end of the matinée, he will reappear as if by magic in time for that evening’s performance.
Frankly, much news and documentary coverage on TV or film is far more frightening and likely to induce nausea, because the people getting maimed, injured or killed are not going to stand up and smilingly take a bow at the end of the broadcast.
The genesis of this article was a report that the Almeida production of The Years featuring a bevy of well-known stars had to be interrupted to allow audience members, who were feeling faint having witnessed an abortion scene, to leave the auditorium. Given recent political developments in the United States, one wonders whether even depicting abortion scene might lead to gaol sentences?
This brings us back to recent debates about trigger warnings, which were in place but had seemingly been ignored by patrons. You can hardly blame the Almeida, given that on its web site (in more than one place and including the ticket booking page), in the play’s programme and in communications sent to ticket holders the theatre informed members of the paying public that “this production includes
- A graphic depiction of an abortion
- Blood
- A coerced sexual encounter
- Sexual content”
and, in addition, “the smoking of e-cigarettes, haze and flashing lights.”
As so often, people don’t read what they don’t want to read or can’t be bothered to read and then attempt to blame those who took what should have been perfectly adequate precautions.
It is a fact of theatrical life that some scenes are truly horrific. My dear friend and BTG critic, the late John Thaxter, delighted in regaling interested parties with descriptions of a visit to Shakespeare’s Globe to witness a production of Titus Andronicus, during which several audience members really did faint. Somehow, despite some awful scenes, that play never seems to turn the stomach quite as much as King Lear, but this may be something to do with an eyeball phobia?
Going further back in time, Medea features scenes that could reasonably make the strongest faint and is hardly alone, since the Greeks knew how to shock. Using a wider interpretation of theatre, the Romans apparently enjoyed watching men being torn limb from limb by wild animals and gladiators, while closer to home, public executions drew large, enthusiastic audiences with the last taking place only just over 150 years ago.
In more recent generations, Edward Bond’s Saved and several plays from Sarah Kane’s canon including Blasted and Cleansed contain scenes from which one might very reasonably have averted the eyes, though imaginative directors could turn tragedy into comedy, as both playwrights might well have intended.
There is also an element of each to his or her own. What a callow common citizen finds gory and therefore unbearable is unlikely to raise an eyebrow for an eminent surgeon or undertaker, talking of which, it could be argued that the gravedigger’s cameo in Hamlet is pretty horrific, especially when the skull of a long-dead human being is thrown around on stage with the kind of alacrity more usually witnessed when a line of rugby players advances towards a try in the corner of a muddy field.
Cruel depictions of those with physical handicaps are likely to rouse and shock this critic, while portraits of dictators whose specialism is genocide have a chastening effect and may provoke anger but somehow will never be triggers for queasiness.
Ultimately, if people know that some subject matter will offend and decide to book seats for a new play, it isn’t unreasonable to expect them to read carefully considered content warnings.
As always, the spreading of this kind of story across the press during the silly season is a double-edged sword. While it allows the offended to share their displeasure, it is also a great marketing tool and there can be little doubt that if The Years had not already sold out, the coverage will have helped sales along nicely.