Drama
After the Changes of November 1989 many were expecting Czech dramatic literature to undergo a boom. Not only can we say that this boom has yet to occur but that also – in large measure due to banal complications – there is nothing on the horizon to quicken our senses. A space was opened up by the vanquishing of a common enemy. The theatre, in that on occasion it was genuinely “able to speak” (albeit rarely, and in particular performances), had distanced itself somewhat from its original purpose – to present the world with a mirror (so Shakespeare), a mirror with facets whose reflections are ambiguous and whose function is complex and cathartic.
Viewed in the broader context of Czech literature, Czech drama has within the last ten years (let us take 1995 as the turning point) worked itself into an unusual position. Certain authors who had long been held silent and from whom we might have expected an oeuvre, fell, for various reasons, altogether silent (most notably Václav Havel, Josef Topol, Milan Uhde and the successful dramatist/director Ladislav Smoček). Meanwhile the newer work of those in whom hopes had been invested for the future (such as Daniela Fischerová and Karel Steigerwald) has failed – at least in terms of critical reaction and the power to communicate and provoke – to reach the heights of the old. The place of honour which is “somewhere in-between” is reserved in particular for the tirelessly productive Arnošt Goldflam, the variable quality of whose dramas is far from fatal; indeed, the quality his work maintains is by and large more than respectable. Non-standard and more creative scripts, embodied most obviously in the continuous stream of defiant creations from the Brno avant-garde in the period of Normalization – we think here of Brno’s Husa na provázku [Goose on a String] theatre, which was forced to change its name to Divadlo na provázku [Theatre on a String] for fear that this would be interpreted as a disparagement of president Gustáv Husák, and also of HaDivadlo [Haná Theatre] – have been disappearing from view in more recent work. The emergence of a wealth of young talent has been stimulated by the recent introduction of competitions for Best Stage Play (most notably the Alfréd Radok Prize) and the growing interest of theatre troupes in performing new work. Many of these new playwrights are employed by the theatre in which their works are performed (eg., Markéta Bláhová, Iva Volánková, David Drábek, Jiří Pokorný and the more experienced Jan Vedral), while other young dramatists are emerging from beyond the patronage of a home stage. Again and again we come across aspirants for prizes who are producing consecutive works – on occasion to admirable effect – at a pace which suggests a compulsion; we also encounter authors of outstanding single works (such as Rychetský and his Innocent are Innocent) which may for ever stand alone.
The subject matter of the contemporary Czech stage play is typically timeless; it is informed by events both at home and abroad and also by fashionable waves in world drama (such as Coolness). With a boldness strange to the work of its predecessors, it gives a treatment of intimate or family problems (Bláhová’s Mousetrap, Havlíková’s Rat, Pitínský’s Bedroom), the existential travails and angst of the younger generation (Rychetský); in stark manner it tackles themes such as smuggling (Pokorný’s Rest in Peace), the promotion of sport to excess (Pokorný’s Dad Scores Goals), racism (Bambušek’s Hugo), sexual tourism (Bambušek’s Sand) and the conflicts among “funeral” gangs (Tejkl’s Amateurs); we confront the shocking cruelty which resides in “normal” human relations (Horoščák’s Boiled Heads) and are treated to digs at Normalization, a period which only now are we beginning to examine fully (Zelenka’s Stories of Ordinary Madness, Drábek’s Synchronized Swimmers). There have, of course, been new plays for children in recent years: some of these are philosophical (such as Fischerová’s Firebird) while others are heavily laced with treasured national motifs (such as Peřinová’s Good Heavens, Dogheads! and Levinský’s Kašpárek, Officer of Koločava). The witty practitioners of the latter kind intend their work almost exclusively for performance in puppet theatres. The efforts of those who aspire to a position among the most popular dramatists are summarized as follows by Martin Velíšek, one of the jurors of the 2003 Radok Prize: “In terms of genre, this year’s entries were very varied: they included a parody of a detective story, science fiction, satirical comedy, poetic wordplay, philosophical drama, drama provocative and tedious. If we are looking for classifications, we will find them in the subject matter rather than in the form. As ever there is a preponderance of views of the world from the level of the little man, from groups of lower social status” (Svět a divadlo, 2004/4). We should mention here that prizes for new drama awarded by particular theatres have been less successful; the National Theatre Company, for example, premiered as winners of such a competition two weaker works by gifted dramatists (Balák and Jecelín), the opulent staging of which did each of them a disservice.
In various forms recent Czech drama has re-worked and re-examined classics of the world stage, such as the tragedies of Sophocles (see Sikora’s Sweeping of Antigone) and Shakespeare’s Hamlet (see Tobiáš’s Solingen), and details from the lives of the greats, as in Steigerwald’s moral profile of Bertolt Brecht, Martin Peschek Goes to Heaven. Dramatists and producers have brought to the stage renowned works of world prose: Jaroslav Vostrý adapted Stendhal’s Red and the Black, while the Brno team of Krobot and Oslzlý have in recent years adapted Němcová’s Grandmother, Viewegh’s Wonderful Years of Lousy Living and Škvorecký’s Engineer of Human Souls. To these scripted works we can add the often excellent improvizations of Ivan Vyskočil and Jaroslav Dušek. Many recent plays can be considered “still warm”, meaning that they are taken by a production team and completed in rehearsal; many “closed” scripts – in which words speak louder than actions – reach their audiences in the form of a radio play.
The register of contemporary stage plays varies from the sophisticated and stylized (see Fischerová) to an enumeration of vulgarities “from life” (see Pokorný). The lingusitic facility of well-established practitioners (such as Goldflam and Steigerwald) maintains its high standards; this may seem self-evident, but it is necessary that it be emphasized in connection with these works, the quality of which resides in the imagery of their staging and the boldness of their shocking twists and plot reversals, thus confining language to a modest back seat. (When the stage production attempts to exploit the script to its fullest extent, this may translate to the stage as a somewhat awkward rawness.)
Today’s new Czech drama is published in book form for the most part by the enterprising Brno house Větrné mlýny [Windmills]; since the revolution the pre-eminent periodical for the publishing of new drama has been Svět a divadlo [The World and the Theatre], every issue of which contains either an original play or a play in translation. (The first such play to be published was Pitínský’s Mother in 1990.) In addition, the periodical Loutkář [The Puppeteer] publishes original plays for puppet theatre, several of which (not least those by Iva Peřinová and René Levinský) can be classified as above-average in the general context of contemporary Czech drama. Some theatres publish the scripts of plays – new and old, original and in translation – in the programmes issued for certain productions. (These are of particular value to reviewers, who are able hereby to cast an eye over productions once more.) Leaders in this are the National Theatre (eg., Volánková’s 22 Stony Street), the Brno City Theatre (eg., Kratochvil’s And It’s Grandma’s Ninety-ninth Birthday) and the Moravian-Silesian National Theatre in Ostrava (eg., the adaptation of Hrubín’s Romance for Flugelhorn by Lipus and Pivovar).
Jan Kerbr
