Review: Juoruja
We don’t gossip,
but where to put your ears!
Gossip and gossip have both negative and strongly positive connotations. The former attitude is of course related to manners, the latter to the desire for information and communication. Curiosity is the trigger for both.
The media may be reproached for spreading gossip or, rather, for the fact that the reader cannot always be sure of what title is going on at any given time.
The Helsinki City Theatre, on the other hand, openly declares that it is now rumouring gossip. So feel free to enter the theatre building. I don’t know who else you see there. At least at the premiere with the Prime Minister’s entourage.
This farce by American Neil Simon has already been tested around the world and is guaranteed to make you laugh. When the director of the Helsinki performance is the author’s namesake, Neil Hardwick, the audience can already expect quite a fireworks display.
The gossip is “so much funny” and the tempo is so fast that you have to save the rest of the giggles at home when you don’t have time for everything. I don’t recommend eye makeup for this party, unless it’s a color that can withstand a really big laugh.
In summary, the plot is that the friend couples invited to celebrate their tenth wedding anniversary get to train the whole evening in their own names, because the hosts are playing a self-destruction trick; The gentleman refuses to leave the upper floor and the lady seems to have left the house completely.
The guests come up with explanations for such a surprise, and gossip is used for support. Who has heard what, who is protecting whom, and perhaps there are also parties involved in the supposed rift. Besides, a couple of shots have been heard from the house, and although the consequences in that regard are not unbearable, no one wants to be associated with a scandal. The police must be kept at bay.
Presumably, these are big-shoes and celebrities: lawyers, senatorial candidates, psychotherapists and TV experimenters whose own relationships may be in tatters. The mess is created by hiding what has happened and what is supposed to have happened.
The actors must be inclined to quick expression, the precise rhythm of facial expressions and gestures, and replication. The cast responds to the cries. Jari Pehkonen shines, the comedian enjoyably does his part as Lenny, the viewer is strongly on the side of this character – what a survivor!
Sari Siikander and Risto Kaskilahti are also in their element, Mikko Kivinen agonizes and wriggles his way into the hearts of viewers, and Pertti Sveholm “skates” himself dry like a washable politician even from unfortunate positions.
Miina Turunen, as well as Pia Runnako and Niina Nurminen, have too precisely defined the cliché roles of socialites based on the text, but they all blow into them. The costumes designed by Janne Renvall that do not spare fantasy both create space and deliberately delimit the narrative. Wearing the costumes deserves special thanks, and in this case, the “cover girl” Siikander must definitely be mentioned.
Pekka Huotari’s job as a police officer is to bring the people back down to earth, to stand up for realism. The contrast arrangement has been successful.
Henri Kapulainen’s Finnish translation is smooth and inventive, but worth one minus. I’m sure there is some other variation of the update than “Oh, Jesus”. Repeated many times during the same evening, it is guaranteed to lose its power. And at least part of the Finnish public feels that it is an insult to their values.