Over There, a play by Mark Ravenhill, is available for streaming or purchase on digitaltheatre.com. The play chronicles the relationship between twins who grew up on opposite sides of the Berlin wall. After the fall, the brothers’ relationship begins to disintegrate as one twin struggles to hold on to the mores of Eastern Communism and the other pushes him towards Western Consumerism. It is an insular experience of an epic social shift turned inside out to be examined.
To classify Ravenhill’s play is difficult, but in my experience the sum of its parts amount to an in-yer-face, psychotic breakdown, and memory play. This incarnation of the play is more physically gentle than my (limited) experience of Sarah Kane’s work. However, this play utilizes psychological violence, which leaves one reeling days after watching it. The play contains many of the elements of other plays we have recently explored, including micro/macro dramaturgy, living history, and plays from the point of view of the aggressor.
Over There is a micro-dramaturgical exploration of a macro event. When communism fell with the Berlin wall, so, too did an entrenched way of life. The east twin is exemplary of this. We watch his psychological state disintegrate in tandem with the communist way of life. The West twin feeds on his failure, forcibly infusing his brother with his Western values. Thus, as one watches the play, it becomes apparent that the microcosmic events of the characters’ personal lives reverberate outwards to reflect the macrocosmic geopolitical events surrounding the fall of the Berlin wall. As West Germany begins the process of a mass-cultural take-over, East Germany (in the form of the Eastern twin) fights fruitlessly to evade cultural erasure.
This examination of the dark underbelly of modern geopolitics functions not only on a psychological plane, but on a physical one. What separates the physical vocabulary of the play from the physical vocabulary of Blasted, for example, is the quality and style of the physicality. Violence is committed in this play, but not in a deep physical sense. In fact, the violence that is done is quite light, but in its symbolic quality its ramifications reach deeper in some ways. Symbolically the violence also manages to be visually disturbing despite the lack of traditional manifestation. The most visually arresting instance of this draws not only on the twins’ psychological bond (modeled on the geopolitical war between East and West Germany) but the symbolic nature of the “violence” inflicted. Toward the climax of the play, the Western twin douses his Eastern, Communist brother with the detritus of consumerism and luxury, mostly in the form of foodstuffs: ketchup, flour, mustard, cupcakes…the list goes on. This action turned into a formative moment in the play, not only in terms of psychological warfare, but in reinforcing a micro-symbolic vocabulary that had been building throughout the show. Despite his promises to clean his brother, the Western twin only pats him with a towel a few times, reinforcing the micro-representation of West conquers East. Despite his protests, the Eastern twin cannot be astringed of the marks of this new culture.
This micro vocabulary utilized in this production consisted of the characters’ relationship to set/props and their relationship to other “characters” depicted in the play (all parts are played by the twins). The play takes place mostly in the apartment of the Western twin’s apartment, and shifts to other locals through simply rearrangement of objects. The overall aesthetic of the design is sterile, windowless and reminiscent of a hospital, save for the fact that the back wall is piled high with brand-name products of every kind. These products function as miniature representations of Capitalist ideals, from extravagant gifts to temporary job applications. Most notably, however, is the characterization of a household sponge. The sponge represents the Western twin’s son. What is most disturbing about this representation is the physical and emotional vocabulary: they speak to it like a child, handle it like a child… and yet it is a very bland sponge. It is interesting to note that dolls and masks and wigs appear onstage and are utilized, and yet, the child is played by a sponge. The presence of the physical vocabulary surrounding the sponge is also indicative of the greater socio-political issue being explored: The Eastern Twin treats the sponge/son as if it is a tool to be utilized, while the Western Twin fights to preserve its individual identity…. despite the fact that is clearly a sponge. This extreme absence of secondary character adds to the psychotic experience of the play.
Finally, the play comes to a close with a fascinating scene reminiscent of fetal absorption, mirroring the West Devouring the East: The Western brother not only strangles his condiment-covered body into lifelessness, he eats the flesh of his stomach. This takes him a few tries without throwing up, but in the end he succeeds in consuming his brother, his physical vocabulary mirroring his earlier linguistic vocabulary: “you can’t have yourself.” Thus, as stated, there is no real cleansing in this play, of bodies or relationships. This uncomfortable fact is paralleled by the play’s structure, which in my experience offered no opportunity for catharsis.
While I had to challenge myself to keep my eyes on the screen at some points, I was appreciative of the raw and dirty nature of the physical and linguistic vocabulary of this play. It did adhere to the tenets of the “in-yer-face” movement, but it went further than an exploration of physical violence, examining the minute details of long-suffered and long-practiced psychological (even cultural) warfare. Its shock lay not in its bold “choreography” (although this was thrilling) but in the dark finality that individuality was not a possibility in this world, unless that “individuality” meets with success. In other words, capitalism did conquer communism, but the abuse we dish out as a collective and as individuals, is cyclical.
Drama Lit Blog 2.0: BU School of Theatre 