Review: Mestari
Kari Heiskanen’s The Master is a small masterpiece
The quality play had its Finnish premiere yesterday on Pengerkatu in Helsinki. Kari Heiskanen’s direction throws a bunch of diabolical questions at the viewers.
“If so agreed…” That is one of the key phrases of the play The Master. All kinds of things are possible and permissible, if people agree to do so. But at the same time, you are already slipping on a sloping surface; Are the conventions and conventions that measure greatness and prestige valid and valid? Is there an inviolable basis for human dignity?
Daniel Kehlmann (b. 1975) is a German-Austrian writer whose play, which premiered in Vienna in 2012, had its Finnish premiere yesterday on the Pengerkatu stage. The speed is spot on, Liisa Urpelainen’s Finnish translation and Kari Heiskanen’s direction move smoothly in the landscapes of fame and oblivion. A small, not insignificant play.
The performance gets to the point with direct, concise scenes. Without slipping into the side of farce, the performance turns out to be funny, even though it touches on quite sensitive points: human insecurity, peer and self-esteem, dependence on fellow human beings. Still, it makes me smile, it’s relieving to watch.
The story is delivered in an hour and a half – without unnecessary intermissions – which can be considered a virtue among today’s rubber-band-like productions. The text and arrangement are very limited.
There are only four roles in the story, all of which are justified. A nasty passé writer arrives at the country villa, the Master (Taneli Mäkelä), who is supposed to mentor the young playwright (Iikka Forss), “the voice of his generation”. His glowing wife (Sanna-June Hyde) is not just a decoration either, and the owner of the villa (Jouko Klemettilä) also grows out of his original role as a servant.
The sparring gig immediately goes wrong, the writers quarrel, and deeper precipitates bubble up on the surface. The way in which the conflict is alternately dismantled and elevated develops with delicious surprising moves. Each one reveals new kinds of downsides and counter-talks, faces change to unknowns.
Mäkelä takes care of the role of a doer who has thrown himself on his laurels and is patinated by self-love. Mäkelä’s list of shortcomings has never included charisma, which bites even now when it merges with this masterful bastard – but the role is not limited to being unambiguous. The Aulis Kakko phrasing of Fakta homma, which only occasionally comes up, burdens Mäkelä a little.
Forss embodies well the fluctuations of a junior writer; uncertain respect, self-loathing, cynicism and rage, the power of a martyr insulted in love… He does nuanced acting. Hyde, as a slightly opportunistic little wife (in the beginning), also raises and diversifies her role to other meanings. Klemettilä hatches from a cultural bureaucrat into a wannabe artist who, when freed, lets many truthful words out of his mouth.
The performance throws a bunch of diabolical questions. People operate, play and express their emotions with words, speak directly or in a more circling way, are charmed and offended by words. All of it is constantly changing, is there a more permanent balance? What do words mean when they are put alongside deeds?
The Master of the Helsinki City Theatre is a memorable spoken word play, a small, open masterpiece. If so agreed…