Based on our class discussions, it’s safe to say
that the play Dionysus in Stony Mountain by Steven Ratzlaff wasn’t for
everyone. But what is?
Some thought it was too serious while others said
it was too long and threw too much information at them (especially during the
first act).
I definitely agree that it’s not the kind of play
where you can sit back and let it wash over you-- not if you want to get
something out of the experience. In fact, I’ve never before attended a play
that required more (internal) audience participation. When I walked out of the
Rachel Brown Theatre I was exhausted—it felt as though my brain had been doing
pushups for two hours. And it was a great feeling.
Most people I spoke to preferred the second act
of the two-act play, but it was the first that won me over.
Act two may have been more of a tearjerker, but
the idea of fearing mediocrity that James and Heidi Prober (played by Sarah
Constible) touched on in the first act is what left me in an emotional puddle.
There was something so heartbreaking about that… something so
vulnerable… because I agree that the so-called madness James was experiencing
was more akin to clarity. I saw his “madness” as being more in touch with
reality, and, given his situation, it brought on the overwhelming feeling of
vulnerability and sadness.
Bill Kerr, the director of the play, states the
following in the program:
“Dionysus is exactly the kind of play that
excited me about the potential of theatre to engage audiences at a highly
complex level.”
I couldn’t agree more. But the operative word
here is potential—you can’t force people to pay attention or think
critically (in a theatre setting or anywhere else, for that matter). That being
said, I liked the fact that although the play wasn’t for everyone, like it or
not, we were all “held captive” and made to listen to the ideas of Nietzsche
and Ratzlaff for two hours. Was I able to absorb everything or catch all of the
references? Of course not. But the scope of the content was exciting.
The director goes on to say:
“It grapples with society and its institutions by
both applying and interrogating the thoughts of Nietzsche with remarkable
clarity while, at the same time, engaging us on the directly political level of
the here and now, asking most urgently why our society, particularly as played
out in the prison, functions as it does whatever our intents.”
Throughout the first act I was scribbling down
notes as fast as I could, but not surprisingly, I couldn’t move my pen fast
enough to keep up with what James Hiebert (played by Ross McMillan) was saying.
The moment I finished writing something down,
another noteworthy idea would spring from his mouth. Here are bits and pieces
of the things James said that grabbed my attention:
- Residential schools -- opposite of
assimilation
- Morality of slaves --- slave morality
enforced by the state
- Self-evident and natural values—what is
the source of their morality?
- Artificial life support-- makes people
needier
- Purity of intention (until the money
runs out) and cancer of compassion
- Would you punish those not responsible
for their behaviour? (“on the road with broken wheels”)
My mind is still churning over what James had to
say, which is why, contrary to what some of my classmates had to say, I don’t
think the play needed more action—if you managed to keep up with James (which
was difficult to say the least), all of the action took place in your head.
Mental sword fight anyone? En guarde.
I’ll admit I had an advantage going into Dionysus
in Stony Mountain because I’ve taken a couple of philosophy classes.
I learned about Peter Singer, Daniel Dennett, Richard Dawkins, Ludwig
Wittgenstein, Carl Sagan, David Hume, Plato and Aristotle. It was certainly not
uncommon to hear names such as Immanuel Kant, Bertrand Russell, Noam Chomsky
and, yes, even Friedrich Nietzsche, pop up in conversation.
So maybe that’s part of the reason why this quote
from Ratzlaff that appears on Theatre Projects Manitoba’s website caught my
eye:
“Nietzsche is a philosopher who grabs you by the
throat and compels you to look at things from unaccustomed angles and in
strange light.”
Sounds an awful lot like something
journalists—and communicators in general—can learn from, doesn’t it?
