An Irresistible Reprise: Arturo Ui goose steps into the West End

It’s over 25 years since Bertolt Brecht’s allegorical comedy The Resistible Rise of Arturo Ui last played in London’s West End, but the revival of this gangster spectacle proves itself to be an irresistible attraction. Greed, corruption, extortion and murder combine in this villainous tale to make its message as unsettling as it is entertaining. Brecht may have described his play as a ‘history farce’ rather than a parable, but it is impossible to ignore its satirical commentary on Hitler’s rise to power.

Set in 1930s Chicago at the time of the Depression, the play centres around Arturo Ui, played by Henry Goodman, a small time hoodlum who, aided by his band of thuggish henchmen, sets out to take control of the city’s cauliflower trade by whatever means necessary. Such means include an awful lot of machine gun fire and a savage attack on an innocent cabbage in a demonstration of comedic brutality; this is, we are told, ‘no violence – just emphasis.’

Under Jonathan Church’s direction, this production explicitly embraces the history of Hitler’s ascent to power as it casts a long shadow across the stage and into the intimate space of the Duchess Theatre. One concern is that those without knowledge of this period of history may not be aware of the many allusions made to 1930s Germany. There were moments when the shadow of history could have been exposed in true Brechtian style with explanatory placards, which could add to the nuance of detachment, curiosity and terror.

[pullquote style=”left” quote=”dark”]Goodman’s physical and brilliantly psychotic performance as Ui combines the tragic, Shakespearean Richard III, with the clowning of Charlie Chaplin. [/pullquote] It appears absurd at first to think that the hunched, awkward creature with the crudely drawn on moustache could ever rise to the top of anything, as he struggles to command a conversation let alone a major political organisation. He even cowers behind chairs to seek safety from his own protection squad. Yet, despite his disposition, he does rise to power, in a metamorphosis from a cartoonish Bugsy Malone caricature to terrifying Scarface tyrant.

Indeed, Ui’s early quest to transform his public image, ensuring he can appeal to ‘the little people’, produces a scene that had the audience laughing unashamedly at his Pythonesque attempts at ‘electrocution’ lessons. Keith Baxter’s burlesque-like performance, as The Actor, uses Shakespeare’s celebrated Speeches from Julius Caesar not only to improve Ui’s diction but to help him master the art of performance.

From such rocky foundations a manufactured façade begins to take shape in a manner not unlike the carefully constructed public image of many modern day politicians, who you can imagine practising in front of a mirror, just as Ui does. As the thick Brooklyn accent is replaced, a strong dictatorial tone, arm salute and goose-step (Goodman appears to be fresh from the Ministry of Funny Walks) become established features of Ui’s ‘act’ – the physical and oratory presence of a egotistical man named Adolf now dominates the stage.

Ui’s transition from blunderer to dictator is firmly cemented in one particularly chilling scene where he orders his long term friend and closest ally, Roma (a swaggeringly good performance by Michael Feast) to be shot in cold blood, and left to die. Roma’s demise is ordered because his activities are viewed to be blocking Ui’s attempts to increase his territorial control in neighbouring Cicero. The message is clear: business comes before everything and everyone. Any dissenting voices will, and repeatedly are, quite literally shot down. By the end of the play all sense of the original caricature has faded from Goodman’s performance and his frenzied finale oration is the culmination of all that he has become. He now stands tall, his movements are sharp and his eyes flash manically. The creation of a megalomaniac is complete.

Despite being written over 70 years ago in 1941, the underlying messages of Brecht’s play resonate loud and clear with current global concerns: recession, the banking crisis, abuse of political power, events in Syria all have voices through Brecht’s theatrical narrative. Ui’s declaration to ‘the little people’ that ‘first comes unity, then comes sacrifice’ sounded eerily similar to our own coalition’s political rhetoric that we are ‘all in it together; and the constant demand for austerity measures. Church does make use of Brechtian technique during Ui’s last passionate and psychotic speech, where the fourth wall dissolves as members of his mob appear in the auditorium to rally up the audience in support of his regime. The exposition of this dark tale as a fictitious performance in the epilogue when Goodman rips off Ui’s moustache is sinister and blatant. It evokes the sense that we, the audience, have been complicit in Ui’s murderous rise, and is a stark warning that these scenes of violent megalomania need to be and can be resisted.

The Resistible Rise of Arturo Ui is playing at The Duchess Theatre, London until 7 December.