Down With Sweaters
It is once again my painful duty to pick up the role of Theatre Critic, as I am screaming with opinion, so here it is for Down With Sweaters. WARNING: contains spoilers
The main thing this play evokes is a sense of What the Fuck. Down With Sweaters toes the line between possible creative genius and total bullshit. It is a sort of acid trip where vague ideas such as art and society and sweaters are thrown about with abandon and utter disregard of the consequences. It might give spiritual enlightenment if one was stoned, then again, I’ve heard a flowerpot provides spiritual enlightenment if stoned. I seriously wonder if the author woke up from a dream and said, “ Holy crap, I have a div three.“
The plot seems basic, yet manages to make little sense. Art is oppressed by Whatshisname, the artist, Whatshername finds this guy who understands her art, he joins her against Whatshisname, they are caught, the guy chooses the wrong side and is tested, the artist frees him, they are recaptured and she is destroyed, while he must take her place, the workers don’t give a damn as usual, and in the end he stands up to Whatshisname and the play ends with a random gun and no conclusion of these diverse elements whatsoever. Sweaters and “the future is in the children” show up there at the end, too.
There is little character development of either of Whatshisname and Whatshername, and they serve only as archetypal models of opposing forces. This is likely intentional, but prevents the audience from really understanding why they are fighting or what caused the fighting. The guy also seems to lack much of his own mind, despite his supposed purpose of being the one to think for himself, as he does whatever the Whatsnames tell him to. He only comes into his role at the end, and there is not enough time for him to develop as a person before the play abruptly ends. They seem like some Hampshire students, what a surprise, who seem to have vague notions of what’s right and wrong, but really have no idea what they’re talking about.
As for the universality of the play, the techniques of persuasion are eerily similar to Evangelical Christianity, and Communist China, but here is where any sort of analogue ends. In the play’s attempts to be universal, with maybe art substituting for any number of causes, it manages to be so vague that there really is not an understanding of the issue at hand. What does seem to be made clear is the catch-22 situation caused by the material of the play. It seems to be that if you criticize it, it is because you are not progressive enough to understand it, and are just oppressing the art, even when the art might be crap. I personally think that I don’t have a high enough blood alcohol level to appreciate this sort of play. Perhaps the ambiguity, confusion, and insanity of the play are intentional, designed to make one feel awkward, and question the motives of one’s own actions but I doubt it. If the message is that art can make change, the inconclusive ending sure doesn’t show art do anything but complain that it’s being oppressed and making ineffectual struggle. Again, much like many Hampshire students. The sweater element doesn’t really come into play until the end and even then the idea of art versus sweaters is absurd. Maybe the play is absurdist, but it seems to be trying too hard to make people think to just be a play for absurdity. Sweaters mainly seems to refer to the dominant costuming theme for the oppressors.
The only thing redeeming this play is the main actors, Their passion and complete immersion in their roles shone through to the point where it was almost scary and you wondered where the acting stopped and the real person began. Had it not been for the superb acting of the guy and Whatshername, I think that some of the scenes were so cliché that I would have ended up laughing. Perhaps the cliché is intentional.
In the end Down With Sweaters brings no resolution to the plot, much as someone suddenly looked up from their computer, and said, “Oh it’s time to turn my div 3 in.” The character ends up pointing the gun at the audience, which doesn’t make much sense unless it is to relieve them of the bullshit of the play. Then again, maybe the bullshit was intentional.
Yes these are my feelings, and if I hurt yours it is a side result of you being involved in the play/ getting spiritual enlightenment from the play, it should not be considered a personal attack.
Then again, if you read the script, and still wanted in, there’s no accounting for taste ;)
In other news, wasn't today delightfully misty? BBC and High Tea showed Casanova which was amazing and I want to see much, much more of. I forgot to say yeaterday that there was a moment in Japanese where I needed to make up a sentence for what I wanted, and I though, well, I'm full, I'm warm, and I'm happy, I don't really want anything. Then I decided that I wanted Saga food to be delicious, as I had to say something. Sigh. Getting urges to irimi-nage people all the time, so next week I will be going to aikido so I don't go crazy.
The main thing this play evokes is a sense of What the Fuck. Down With Sweaters toes the line between possible creative genius and total bullshit. It is a sort of acid trip where vague ideas such as art and society and sweaters are thrown about with abandon and utter disregard of the consequences. It might give spiritual enlightenment if one was stoned, then again, I’ve heard a flowerpot provides spiritual enlightenment if stoned. I seriously wonder if the author woke up from a dream and said, “ Holy crap, I have a div three.“
The plot seems basic, yet manages to make little sense. Art is oppressed by Whatshisname, the artist, Whatshername finds this guy who understands her art, he joins her against Whatshisname, they are caught, the guy chooses the wrong side and is tested, the artist frees him, they are recaptured and she is destroyed, while he must take her place, the workers don’t give a damn as usual, and in the end he stands up to Whatshisname and the play ends with a random gun and no conclusion of these diverse elements whatsoever. Sweaters and “the future is in the children” show up there at the end, too.
There is little character development of either of Whatshisname and Whatshername, and they serve only as archetypal models of opposing forces. This is likely intentional, but prevents the audience from really understanding why they are fighting or what caused the fighting. The guy also seems to lack much of his own mind, despite his supposed purpose of being the one to think for himself, as he does whatever the Whatsnames tell him to. He only comes into his role at the end, and there is not enough time for him to develop as a person before the play abruptly ends. They seem like some Hampshire students, what a surprise, who seem to have vague notions of what’s right and wrong, but really have no idea what they’re talking about.
As for the universality of the play, the techniques of persuasion are eerily similar to Evangelical Christianity, and Communist China, but here is where any sort of analogue ends. In the play’s attempts to be universal, with maybe art substituting for any number of causes, it manages to be so vague that there really is not an understanding of the issue at hand. What does seem to be made clear is the catch-22 situation caused by the material of the play. It seems to be that if you criticize it, it is because you are not progressive enough to understand it, and are just oppressing the art, even when the art might be crap. I personally think that I don’t have a high enough blood alcohol level to appreciate this sort of play. Perhaps the ambiguity, confusion, and insanity of the play are intentional, designed to make one feel awkward, and question the motives of one’s own actions but I doubt it. If the message is that art can make change, the inconclusive ending sure doesn’t show art do anything but complain that it’s being oppressed and making ineffectual struggle. Again, much like many Hampshire students. The sweater element doesn’t really come into play until the end and even then the idea of art versus sweaters is absurd. Maybe the play is absurdist, but it seems to be trying too hard to make people think to just be a play for absurdity. Sweaters mainly seems to refer to the dominant costuming theme for the oppressors.
The only thing redeeming this play is the main actors, Their passion and complete immersion in their roles shone through to the point where it was almost scary and you wondered where the acting stopped and the real person began. Had it not been for the superb acting of the guy and Whatshername, I think that some of the scenes were so cliché that I would have ended up laughing. Perhaps the cliché is intentional.
In the end Down With Sweaters brings no resolution to the plot, much as someone suddenly looked up from their computer, and said, “Oh it’s time to turn my div 3 in.” The character ends up pointing the gun at the audience, which doesn’t make much sense unless it is to relieve them of the bullshit of the play. Then again, maybe the bullshit was intentional.
Yes these are my feelings, and if I hurt yours it is a side result of you being involved in the play/ getting spiritual enlightenment from the play, it should not be considered a personal attack.
Then again, if you read the script, and still wanted in, there’s no accounting for taste ;)
In other news, wasn't today delightfully misty? BBC and High Tea showed Casanova which was amazing and I want to see much, much more of. I forgot to say yeaterday that there was a moment in Japanese where I needed to make up a sentence for what I wanted, and I though, well, I'm full, I'm warm, and I'm happy, I don't really want anything. Then I decided that I wanted Saga food to be delicious, as I had to say something. Sigh. Getting urges to irimi-nage people all the time, so next week I will be going to aikido so I don't go crazy.