Opinion

Curtain Call And Encore

Digital streaming of plays is not a patch on theatre’s end­uring mystique. Yet it has brought new audiences and helped beleaguered thespians survive, change and dare to hope.

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Curtain Call And Encore
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Of all sophisticated mass entertainment, it’s the oldest: the breathless hush of a blackout to the final fall of the curtain; the play of the plot, be it a full course from hubris to catharsis or a Becketian wait for meaning, the theatre has charmed, enthralled and held humans captive. For theatre artistes, nothing imparts a godlike control over destiny than impersonating a character before a silent audience—a source of energy that communicates itself to the players only in a proscenium, an electric flow of giving and receiving that’s unique to the medium. Yet this most vital of performances was shut down, globally, in March 2020 due to a microscopic ogre that is dominating our lives since.

Though thespians in repertory companies and theatres endured a terrible year, the months weren’t completely wasted. Practitioners learnt new skills and connected with artistes worldwide through online readings, workshops and acts.

But shock and disappointment had the first call. For theatre producer Sonali Kulkarni, the pandemic forced her to cancel an international tour, to the US, with the play White Lily and Night Rider. The hurt and the dashing of dreams were real. “We have had to bide our time with patience and hope,” adds Kulkarni who, as producer, tried to compensate her team members to some extent, but was helpless before the enormity of the Covid pandemic and the sheer numbers rendered helpless by the blight. An alternative had to be found and, as with other activities cut adrift by the pandemic, a panacea was sought in digital performances.

Yet, artifices in the digital domain, though an art by itself, could never rep­lace or replicate the full-blooded experience of a theatre. Mahesh Dattani, director, actor, playwright and writer, says: “Theatre is the parent of every other form of storytelling. A parent is irr­eplaceable. As our lives grow more and more disintegrated with isolation, uncertainty, void of human contact, theatre offers us human connection on the physical, social, cultural and ideological planes.”

The connection with a live audience, Kulkarni agrees, is priceless and irreplaceable. “There have been points when I was extremely successful, extremely unsuccessful, unwell, scared…yet I discovered myself anew with theatre. Each time, the audience gave me validation.”

Thespian and actor Aahana Kumra agrees too: “The relationship that you build with an audience is incredible and personal. I know people who have been watching their favourite play for over ten years. That connection and bonding you cannot get in a digital medium. Theatre is an actor’s medium and it becomes imp­ossible to create that kind of an intimate space— for yourself and the audience—on OTT or in cinema.”

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Makarand and Aahana in Sir Sir Surla.

Not just with actors, directors, and writers, the chorus of despair is loudest amidst people who are dependent on theatre for a livelihood—technicians, light men, sound designers, set designers, coordinators, booking assistants etc. Kumra says, “The pandemic has imp­acted the livelihoods of backstage crews and people who depend on theatre. In any case, theatre has never been lucrative in India. Artistes pursue theatre for passion, but when theatre companies were up and running, they were helping support the full-timers too.”

In such a scenario, running a theatre company is an act inhabiting a zone of quiet desperation. “Initially, we were worried about the virus; now that stage plays have all but come to a halt, money is the chief concern,” says writer-act­or-director Makarand Deshpande. “Even if stage plays start, I don’t think people will have the money in their pockets to afford it. It’s an expensive affair for us to run theatres with just 50 per cent occupancy…increasing ticket rates is also not an opt­ion,” he adds. Usually, a company travels with their new play…that, too, is taken off the stage, so to speak. Deshpande says, “We can’t travel now and have to do stage performances only in Mumbai. But on a positive note, Jaan hai toh jahan hai.”

However, 2020 did turn out to be surprisingly busy for some. “I have never directed two plays simultaneously in my life.  I was working remotely with one group on the East coast of the US and the other on the West Coast,” says Dattani. But remoteness and digital dramaturgy did exact fundamental changes—a reorientation of the accepted conventions of time and space. Dattani explains, “All things are born again in art; the same will happen to theatre. This revisioning has been thrust upon us, but as theatre artistes, the reality, with its surprises and twists, is something we have always embraced.” Dattani himself is gripped by the ‘differentness’ of the situation rather than the obvious difficulties. “Usually, we have the ability to cope with change because it is slow in coming,” he says. “The difference this time is that it came overnight, without warning. Like Dorothy, we have been transported to the land of Oz. Now we need to meet the wizard to find our way home. But along the way, we will make new friends and sing new songs.”

With rare candour, Dattani reasons why he will bet his last rupee on hope: “It is hope alone that drives us. We may have our fragile egos but that has made us stronger. We have braved the endemic of petty jealousies, backstabbing, insecurities all along…. The pandemic is like a hiccup compared to what theatre people have to go through in the best of times.” Tough times also brought out the best amongst theatrepersons, says Dattani. “Artistes have helped each other unlike any time before. We are, after all, professional empathisers.”

Talking about how the theatre fraternity is trying to stiffen up morale, Kulkarni says, “I stay in touch with my team to keep our spirits up. I take it upon myself to cheer others, share positive news and jokes, because humour too spawns hope.  We all need to relax a bit to think out of the box.”

Theatre, of course, is infinitely adaptable, and that generates hope. Though digital performances are ersatz replicas of the live thing, it does enable plays to reach vast audiences. Kulkarni states that the “size of the theatre-loving audience may have expanded as plays bec­ome easily accessible”.

Then again, the pandemic did entice newer audiences to the digital medium and some of them who’ve never been to a playhouse are discovering the serendipitous magic of this genre. Like with Zee theatre’s Sir Sir Sarla, aired digitally now. Kulkarni says: “We have fabulous playwrights who should reach a vast audience and am glad that is beginning to happen. Even though digital will never rep­lace real theatre, it is helping enhance theatrical appeal.” Adds actor Vinay Pathak, “Stage artistes have alw­ays struggled. But we create our craft within hardship. That’s the charm of theatre.”