Review: Bara för dej

Mildly about the transformation of the media

The media world is boiling. In that sense, Lilla Teatern’s Christmas party novelty, the play Bara för dig by the young British author Lucy Kirkwood (b. 1984), is on the nerve. How do leaves stay alive? or not? Product placement or not?

Hey journalist, sell your own engagement party! You will be rewarded with a poorly paid fixed-term contract that snaps off at any time. And if you’re looking for a job at the Real Men’s Alpha, you have to be an Alpha male too.

Boob pictures on the wall and editions on the rise – unless the photos happen to be of a minor. The father of the girl filmed, played by Sixten Lundberg, walks into the editorial office. There could have been a more slick interpretation. The father is supposedly grieving, but is actually at the checkout.

The play bites into Eeva’s apple with desire and heartiness. Sampo Sarkola is a credible player and editor-in-chief. Then the story withers and withers.

 The performance comes to life only after the intermission, when the editor-in-chief of Jonna Järnefelt’s women’s magazine takes to the stage in her gold heels. He has the makings of an editor-in-chief, charisma. As an interpreter of the role, Järnefelt is hard and soft, reckless and empathetic. The nuances are mastered. Spectacular work.

But even though the media world is shaken from the gills, the play is tame. Bara för dig is soft compared to reality, where magazines have to sing each other into the swamp in a variety of ways.

Journalists will soon be an endangered species. One person does ten jobs, and fixed-term employment replaces a permanent job. I wonder how many desk drawers still  have a booklet called Ethical Guidelines for Journalists?

Outsourcing. Restructuring. Crowdsourcing. Reader-centeredness. A new Finnish, and global, media play would have a platter of true stories and stock market talk. Still, Bara för dig is a little funny little black.