Monday, January 19, 2009

The Class

It would be quite easy to mistake the recent Palme D’Or winning drama, The Class, for a documentary. Its story of classroom challenges comes straight from a teacher who has experienced this all first hand, the performances of teachers and students alike are pitch-perfect, genuine and rich, and the ‘fly-on-the-wall’ style of filmmaking (recalling something of Mike Leigh or even last year’s French hit The Secret of the Grain) is perfectly appropriate for capturing the tedium of modern teaching. Essentially, the film simply charts one teacher’s futile attempts to reach a class of mixed-race 14 year-olds in inner-city Paris. Beyond that, however, it offers a commentary on the universal challenges involved in education everywhere, particularly in this era of globalisation.

Francois Begaudeau, the teacher who wrote the book on which this film is based, plays Mr Marin. His sincere attempts to educate this class (and to reach the smarter students amongst the group) are continuously thwarted, mainly by student ‘insolence,’ and those many, mind-numbing, endlessly cyclical conversations that consume classroom time and teacher attention. For the most part, the film is simply a document of these struggles, though it reaches a sort of climax after tempers flare in the classroom and one student’s future education is put on the line. At times, the film does drag a little, but this only contributes to its slowly-building impact. In the end, this film’s effect will take you by surprise, when you realise the magnitude of the crisis. For those who have recently been high school students, The Class offers almost humorous in its familiarity. For those in education, it offers a complex picture of the problems that need to be overcome, without offering any simple solution. For all others, this is a rich classroom drama to remedy the simplicity of Dangerous Minds, and especially the more recent, Freedom Writers.

Giselle, feature [theatre]

If the title “Giselle” speaks to you of pointed toes, of full white tutus and of a traditional tale of romance and heartbreak, then you’re on the wrong track. The heartbreak is all still here, but in this modernised, Irish interpretation of the classic ballet, tutus have been swapped for cowboy boots, pointed toes for foot-stomping and romance for sex, violence and testosterone.

Although the original, 1841 ballet was not without its own element of despair, Irish director Michael Keegan-Dolan has turned everything up a notch. The story is now set in Ballyfenny, a fictional Irish town rife with barely-hidden violence. Giselle is a mute outsider, rejected by the largely-male society. Her suitor, Albrecht, is a Bratislavan line-dancer, and the only source of joy to be found in the entire narrative. For Daphne Strothmann, who plays Giselle, the key to embracing this new version was to avoid exploring the older one in any great depth.

“I didn’t know much of the original Giselle really,” she confesses. “Even as a classically trained dancer I did not really know the whole story, just little bits that I had read up or heard of, but I did not research any more than that because I did want to be clouded by what the original things was. I’ve tried to stay away from the original where possible because I’m somebody who prefers to just throw themselves into it. I preferred to just see what would come out of what Michael [Keegan-Dolan] wanted, really.”

Working closely with Keegan-Dolan was no new experience for Strothmann, who previously worked with the director on four other ballets through the same production company, Fabulous Beast. While these productions bear similarity to one another in that they all fuse theatre and dance, Strothmann feels that Giselle is particularly unique.

“The other productions are really closer to pure dance, where there is a story but you work on building physical material first of all, and on exploring the movements from beginning to end. You don’t really explore your emotions as much, or your feelings towards other characters.” On the contrary, Giselle is guided by a strong narrative, and a lot of dialogue. It veers quite far from the boundary of classical ballet.

“There are a lot of challenges in that, of course,” Strothmann stresses. “Like, how to not do the same thing twice is difficult. You want to make sure you don’t repeat words through movement. It’s very challenging and takes a while to understand, but I think the company is starting to do that much better now. It just takes a while to learn a process and to work it – some of us have been together for five years and some for eight or nine, and that certainly helps us work with this challenging material.”

The company, which was founded in 1997, also aims to make controversial Irish issues accessible and relatable. To prepare for the fictional realm of Ballyfenny, the cast of Giselle spent a period of time in a small, secluded Irish town. Strothmann remembers, “At first it was a little strange; I could not really understand what they were saying, especially into the deeper parts of Ireland where I couldn’t understand even if they were speaking English. There are characters to be found that town that are just like those in the piece, sitting around at the bar drinking or dancing. We went to this kind of bar to try to get a feel for these people and how dark they can be, but to also see how in amongst that darkness there’s a wonderful side to them. They’re very humorous and very sarcastic and every second word is ‘fuck’ and if you’re not used to it’s strange, but if you’re drawn in it becomes very humorous.”

“It’s been interesting to take these ‘Irish’ issues overseas and see how other countries react to them,” Strothmann points out. Having toured such diverse locations as Poland, New Zealand and America, Strothmann has been able to compare and contrast the differing reactions. “The Polish loved it; it was so very well received there. It was a translation obviously but it worked very well, but also if just the pictures do something, and even if you don’t understand the words or you don’t want to read the subtitles, I think it works very well. In New Zealand as well, it was quite positively received.

“It did not go down very well in the States – I think maybe because of the swearing and the abuse of this Giselle character. We were actually supposed to do a greater tour but they had second thoughts. I think it was just too confrontational.” If the Americans hated it then there’s a fair chance we’ll love it, but Strothmann admits that in many ways the play really is a difficult one to stomach. It doesn’t hold back in its representation of sex or of violence. For the dancer, an immersion in this world can take its toll.

“It really took over me for a couple of weeks afterwards to get back to myself, because I could not get out of the character, which I suppose is a good thing. But there were some really tough times for while… I became very quiet and did not really want to talk very much. Also, the other characters were all so rude and shouting at the character and wanting to exclude her from the community. So I just became very internal. And plus with the training that we did everyday, doing yogo before rehearsals, I just became very inward-looking and just tried to interpret myself, as Giselle, from within.”

Additionally, until very recently, Strothmann was the only female cast member. “It was probably one of the other reasons why I pulled myself back, because there was a lot of strong male energy and just as the only woman it was not always very easy. Sometimes you just wanted a female to talk to. I admit it was a little easier for me, because my partner who plays my brother was there, but still it’s a very strange energy.”

Strothmann recalls one of the most challenging scenes, the opener, which has her scrubbing the stage floor patiently and diligently, only for a group of townsmen to enter and spitefully throw dirt over her and her work. Keegan-Dolan has shortened this scene since, but originally Strothmann was the stage for up to half an hour, just cleaning that floor as audience members entered to take their seats.

“Sometimes doing that scene I just really want to cry. Seeing that dirt being thrown at the floor was just – oh. I think once you click into the character and you’re in the piece, it’s so hard to see outside it. I was just thinking about this poor thing who had been cleaning stage and now it’s been dirtied and there’s no reason why, and she doesn’t quite understand. She’s an outsider and different and so they don’t want to see her things clean or proper, they just want to keep destroying her physically and therefore emotionally. I think it’s a very important scene that one because it sets my rhythm for how the whole piece should continue. But it also illustrates just how challenging a role Giselle is.”

WHAT: Giselle

WHERE: 28 Feb – 8 March at the Perth Convention Exhibition Centre Pavilion 6

I've Loved You So Long


When we first see Kirsten Scott-Thomas in Phillippe Claudel’s I’ve Loved You So Long, she is not the collected icon of class that we are used to. Instead she looks haggard in plain brown clothing, with drab oily hair and a face so washed-out it is almost translucent. In between cigarette puffs, she awaits the arrival of her far livelier younger sister, Lea (Elsa Zylberstein). Here, Scott-Thomas plays Juliette, who, after 15 years in prison, has been forcibly taken under Lea’s wing. The remainder of the film delicately charts Juliette’s return into the ‘real world.’ Through seemingly innocuous events such as job interviews, visits to the local pool and dinner parties hosted by her sister, we watch as Juliette struggles both with and against the pull of larger society. It is a film about growth and withdrawal, and the internal battle between these two emotions.

Scott-Thomas’s performance here is second to none; it is her ability to so completely convey that sense of pained restraint that renders this film truly remarkable. Her every look (or lack of it) is a source of great fascination, and the slow unravelling of Juliette’s personality has a quite hypnotic effect. Zylberstein works well also, as the well-intentioned if naïve sister, but she falters in some of the more intense scenes and at any rate pales besides Scott-Thomas. Claudel’s script disappoints a little at its conclusion – for a story that gains its power through its pauses and understatements, its tell-all ending feels out of place, and seems to almost cheapen the narrative. Nonetheless, this is film remains a rare experience. A definite stand-out feature from this year’s PIAF film festival, it screens at Sommerville this week and Joondalup in the next.