The Review - THEATRE by MARIGOLD KIERNAN Published: 10 May 2007
Make way for Mr Mephistopheles
21ST CENTURY FAUST Gatehouse
SCAMPERING up the final flight of stairs to the Gatehouse Theatre, the highest theatre in London, I was surprised to find myself queuing with two portly middle-aged men loudly discussing masturbation. I entered the auditorium with some trepidation.
Dr Faust is a contemporary Oxford don – obsessed with philosophy, a confirmed agnostic, neglecting his feelings and his heart. His discussions with his lodgers provide us with a gallop through all the major philosophical theories, but the development of the characters is hampered by the constraints of being mouthpieces for particular philosophical positions.
As usual, Mephistopheles (Harry Meacher) appears to Faust to buy his soul. He is clad in soft black leather from top to toe, with crimson satin gloves and lots of jewelry. His three sexy side kicks, Andromeda, Dominique and Salome dominate the second half, continually pouting and fondling in their raunchy, skin-tight rubber costumes.
In fact the second half of the play, with its scenes of seduction, mild sadism, and ‘girl-on-girl’ action reminded me of a slightly prim pornographic movie of the 50s.
Although the link between sex and evil seems outdated to a contemporary audience, Dr Faust manages to learn about the power of love.
The use of video and film technology enables characters to continue to be ‘present’ in another world when off stage or dead.
Not for the fainthearted.
Until May 26
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