The reviewers are Stephenie Cahalan, Anica Boulanger-Mashberg, Gai Anderson and Mark Cutler.

Title: Who is the real Monster?
Show: Metamorphosis
Company Name: Vesturport and the Lyric Hammersmith
Theatre Royal
27 March to 2 April

Stephenie Cahalan
The ability to act well is a feat. The ability to act well upside down is truly great feat, and Gísli örn Gardarsson does both in his production of Metamorphosis. This collaboration by Theater Vesturport (Iceland) and the Lyric Hammersmith Theater (UK) has been acclaimed world-wide for this adaptation of Franz Kafka’s hundred-year-old novella.

Director örn Gardarsson plays Gregor Samsa, a hard working young man who wakes one day to find he has transformed into a some kind of insect-like thing. His family is variously horrified, repulsed and concerned but they join forces in pressing on with life, hoping to ignore the hideous thing that Gregor has become. Watching a split view in a two-storey set, the audience must suspend belief to let their perspective be turned upside down, just as the lives of the characters have. Gregor is transformed without so much as a costume change by the breathtaking ability of the actor to deliver most his performance from the roof of the set, not using wires and a harness but with his own circus skills, and the clever use of climbing holds as part of the set.

Subtle costuming helped carry the theme of change – the previously girlish sister emerges as the be-suited woman in control of the situation, Father, craving order, takes comfort in his bank minion’s uniform and Mother’s tragic loss of her son is reflected in her black dress.

The Samsa family and their prospective lodger, with their desire for social status and grasping for financial security, play their parts to the point of caricature. Meanwhile, the dehumanising of Gregor tracks the same course as the loss of refinement and sensitivity of the family. The production captures that shallowness of character that is both the bane and savior of the Samsa family. They are an unpleasant combination of Mrs Elizabeth Bennet and Piggy from Lord of the Flies. It begs the question – who is the real monster?

Nick Cave’s classic major/minor tinkle on the piano and Warren Ellis’ violin help to escalate the tension of a family aspiring to something beautiful in the shadow of a horrible secret.

The production is true to both companies’ commitment to making great traditional theatre in the digital age. However, the only disappointment was that there were times when the stage was just too dark. The sense of squalor and concealment was conveyed in the dimness, but would not be lost with just a little more illumination of the great performances.

Kafka’s repulsive creature in this play is a metaphor for a person who no longer fits into their social, familial or work environment. The theme of communication break down and lack of acceptance transcends time. Metamorphosis serves up a bite of Kafka’s exploration of isolation and alienation, with a dash of theatre of the absurd. It is funny, heart-breaking, and forces the audience to wonder – would I be any better?

Stephenie Cahalan is a Hobart-based writer and editor

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Anica Boulanger-Mashberg
This beautiful adaptation of Franz Kafka’s short story achieves a rare feat: it lives up to its hype. Gísli Örn Gardarsson glows as Gregor Samsa, and his splendid physicalisation and sensitive characterisation alone are worth the price of admission. But this is an ensemble work, and Gardarsson is ably supported by the other four actors, particularly Nína Dögg Filippusdóttir in a strong performance as his sister Grete. And the intricate, versatile, and imaginative set makes such a vital and remarkable contribution to the show that it can almost be considered as a sixth member of the cast.

The stage is divided horizontally, with the view of downstairs room a traditional cross-section, while the view into Gregor’s room upstairs is bird’s-eye, resulting in a dizzying, Escher-esque split reality. In the upper room, Gregor inhabits all manner of gravity-defying positions, climbing walls and astonishingly perching on furniture which is rotated ninety degrees. Below, we watch the family trying to maintain a pretence of normalcy.

The plot is simple but bizarre: Gregor wakes up one morning to find himself transformed into a grotesque insect, his parents and sister no longer able to understand his speech. In Kafka’s story, the physical body of the insect is a central detail in Gregor’s alienation. In Gardarsson and David Farr’s stage version – but for a single, elegant, and brief shadow-portrait in the first few moments – there is no reference to “insect”, either verbally or with costume. In fact, Gardarsson and Farr’s interpretation emphasises Gregor’s essential humanity, and a universal experience of disconnection. This humanity, which Gardarsson explores so tenderly in his performance, is what gives the work its devastating emotional power.

It is not just Gregor who is transformed – into a scuttling creature who hardly ever touches the ground – but his space too. The metamorphosis of this space from familiar bedroom to precarious cave (as the chasm widens between Gregor and his family) is aided by the set’s technical brilliance, and the actors’ consummate competence with the cleverly designed props. Of course, Gardarsson’s relationship to the set is the epitome of this mastery, as his fearlessly physical performance can turn unimaginably difficult movements into graceful flight.

The intensity of the vision for this work has the effect of magnifying several tiny flaws. The first is that some important sections of text are lost to frantic, shouting arguments, which lack vocal finesse and degenerate into mis-choreographed panic. The second is that the family’s reaction to Gregor’s speech (which repulses and distresses them) is sometimes inconsistent, hindering our suspension of disbelief about the hideous creature they are seeing where we merely see the expert body of Gardarsson. But these moments are the exceptions in very controlled performances.

There are so many other strong contributions to this production: Nick Cave and Warren Ellis’s pervasive and moody soundtrack; the idiosyncratic yet timeless and relevant interpretation of Kafka’s work; Börkur Jónsson’s striking visual design; the confrontingly raw familial responses to Gregor’s transformation. What an excellent decision Ten Days on the Island made in bringing Metamorphosis to the festival.

Anica Boulanger-Mashberg is a Hobart-based performer and writer.

…

Gai Anderson
A young man wakes in his bedroom to find himself transformed to insect, an alien in his own body. But he can speak and understand, and inside he is the same person, remaining compassionate to the problems of those around him, so surely his family will help and support him – wont they?

Franz Kafka’s 1916 novella, The Metamorphosis is tragic story of alienation and family dysfunction, which explores the limitations of compassion in a hostile world. This powerful human drama still has great resonances in the world we face today.

A dark and disturbing tale indeed, but the Icelandic / English co -production currently playing it Australian premiere at Hobart’s Theatre royal is a powerful, quirky and action-packed interpretation which leaves no room for sentimentality. Co-adapted and directed by David Farr and Gisli Orn Gardarsson, and directed by Gardarsson the play is driven by an exciting narrative, stylised physicality, heightened acting style and an extraordinary, visually striking and schizophrenic set design, which physically encompasses the themes of the play.

The opening scene crackles as the mother, father and daughter begin their day in jaunty response to Nick Cave and Warren Ellis’ perky and evocative sound track, as two separate worlds open before us in physical contradiction. Downstairs the safety of middle class domesticity, ordered, comfortable, and always remaining physically intact even during moments of great emotional dilemma, while upstairs Gregor’s world is literally upside down. The wall is his floor where his bed no longer sits but seems to hang from the ceiling, always physically teetering, and later transformed to a prison as the moral chaos of downstairs spirals up to grab and lick at him.

The intensely honed performances of the entire company are packed with spark. The outstanding Gardarsson as the tortured and tormented brother Gregor leaps, dives and scuttles across the set in intense insect physicality, whilst the nuances of his suffering and loneliness leave no room for a dry eye.

Nina Dogg Fillppusdottir, as his sister, is truly terrifying as she transforms morally before our eyes from the compassionate young carer for her brother’s needs to the nasty, selfish and ultimately violent creature who demands her brothers extermination.

It is these two that stay with me as I leave the theatre stunned, exhilarated and disturbed, wanting to go back immediately and see it all over again.

Gai Anderson is a performer and writer living in Hobart

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Mark Cutler.
This is Theatre. Take a famous story, stage it in such a way as to challenge, surprise and inspire an audience. Do it so that it avoids cliché, showcases acute acting skills while staying true to the core of the original text. Do it by designing a set that is dazzling but still totally complimentary to the story and workable for the actors. Create a soundtrack that underpins and enhances the production rather than overwhelms it. Light the stage with subtlety to support mood and finally, strike the right balance in the script between intensity and playfulness. This co-production of Franz Kafka’s Metamorphosis from Iceland’s Theatre Vestuport and the UK’s Lyric Hammersmith does all this and more. This Australian premiere was chosen to be the theatrical highlight of 10 Days on the Island, and what an inspired choice it is.

We are all familiar to some extent with Kafka’s story of a man who awakes one morning as a kind of insect. At once misunderstood and alienated from his banality-driven family, Gregor Samsa still clings to a sense of belonging through the care he receives from his beloved younger sister Greta. However, even she eventually becomes uncaring to the point of brutality, as the family unit breaks under the strain and shame of harbouring such a grotesque creature. For Gregor their scorn and denial become a burden he cannot bear. As he is permanently cast aside by his family, the irony of Greta’s own metamorphosis into a sickly sweet young woman is all the more poignant.

First performed in England in 2006 this adaptation of The Metamorphosis is the brainchild of David Farr and acclaimed young Icelandic actor/director Gisli Orn Gardarsson and it is wonderful to see him play the central character of Gregor. His gymnastic background is a tool he wields with grace and his acting skill is also of the highest order. Nina Dogg Filippusdottir as Greta gives a beautifully balanced performance, while the mother, Lucy (Edda Arnljotsdottir), the father, Herman (Ingvar E Sigurdsson) are suitably supportive and convincing. When potential lodger and economic saviour Herr Fischer (Jonathan McGuiness) discovers the family secret he scuttles away quicker than … well … an insect, we are ready for the final solution. And if that sounds familiar it should, because the rise of Nazism and the treatment of political prisoners are themes the play lays bare. Throw in a bit of economic rationalism and we have all the elements of a modern fairytale.

No review of this production can be complete without particular mention of Borkur Jonsson’s split-level, dual-perspective set. It is simply genius, allowing Gardarsson to play then decay in his bedroom-cum-prison, while downstairs the family strive for a hopeless normality. The chilling but ultimately touching score by Nick Cave and Warren Ellis deserves special praise too.

Metamorphosis is theatre of the highest order. The sort of theatre we should all see. The sort of theatre we wished we’d seen when we were young, the sort of theatre we are glad to have seen before we die.

Mark Cutler is a Hobart based writer/performer