Review: Koljatti
The whip of satire strikes the Old
The play Goliath hits Matti Vanhanen hard. Prime Minister Pekka Lahnanen, who is treated in Jari Tervo’s novel, can still be interpreted as a wielder of power in a more general way, although very, very, very reminiscent of Vanhanen. At the Helsinki City Theatre, the whip of satire swings specifically at our ex-prime minister’s back.
Antti Virmavirta, who plays the role of Lahnanen, imitates Vanhanen. Of course, that’s a strict hint, but the illusion of likeness and likeness could be created anyway.
The most crucial thing is that the stage speeches are intertwined with what has happened in society, politics and Vanhanen’s life since the play’s now. Their tension creates humour and directs the direction of thoughts.
What do Lahnanen and his opponents say?
The prime minister assures that “such things would be remembered”, “you have to be honest” and “I will continue for another 20 years”.
His advisers and restraints declare that if Lahnanen is caught doing something, the machinery will stay together with him, because “we in the Center Party don’t leave a friend behind.” Election money and responsibilities float in the background, and the rooster crows many times.
Lahnanen is stumbling with his alcohol stance, with women, with his party field, with his inner circle, with foreign policy and really with everything.
There is plenty of blast for other parties as well. The play will be topical at least until the next parliamentary elections.
Directed by Raila Leppäkoski, the performance is characterised by dreamlike surrealism and shifting the line between good and bad taste. It is anything but politically correct.
Antti Mattila’s set design has wall and floor hatches. Whoever appears through the hatches at any given time, and they lead to where at any given time. There is a rattling sound in the basement, and connoisseurs of the novel have an inkling of what is there. In a theatre performance, however, the rattling remains a mystery.
Tasting good taste begins with sucking on the liquorice. An immigrant man is like the image of a racist cut out of liquorice paper. French farts bang and sizzle. The cardboard-headed politicians — who are shot like in the National Theatre’s The Unknown — swing on the one hand in the taste department and on the other hand on the surrealist side.
Of course, there is no single truth about where the line of flavors lies. I think the mockery was on the good side, just to test my tolerance.
Besides, a profound declaration of humanism is revealed underneath the loose head.
As Lahnanen, Antti Virmavirta creates apt, sweaty facsimile theatre. Sanna-June Hyde is a firm advisor and the latest target of winks. The other actors change clothes on the fly, transforming from very realistic characters to very abstract ones.