The Good Soul of Szechuan by Bertolt Brecht

Jayne Robinson

Jayne Robinson on The Library Theatre's production of Brecht's play about a kind-hearted prostitute who offers a bed for the night to three high-ranking Gods on a mission to find out if there is any goodness left on earth

Library Theatre, Manchester until November 29th 2009

The plays of German theatre practitioner Bertolt Brecht have always been as dividing as the political paradigms that spawned them. So it’s of no disrespect to the Library Theatre to say that no matter how accomplished this prodution was, it was never going to be everyone’s cup of tea. That’s just non-aristotoelian epic drama for you, I’m afraid. Intellectual, thought provoking and respected it may well be. Crowd pleasing ‘tis not - especially with all those god awful songs.

Saying that, the use of David Harrower's recent translation of the classic 1943 play - a translation which was premiered last year at the Young Vic, does help towards a more accessible reading, with plenty of colloquialisms thrown in amongst Brecht's elevated, stark language.

The 'Good Soul' in question is She Te (Poppy Miller), a kind-hearted prostitute who offers a bed for the night to three high-ranking Gods on a mission to find out if there is any goodness left on earth. Touched by hospitality when nobody else in Szechuan would accomodate them, the Gods give Shen Te a thousand dollars - which she uses to buy a humble tobacco shop at an overinflated price. Shen Te's good nature is then taken advantage of time and again, as freeloaders begin to descend on the shop looking for free accomodation, rice, cigarettes - and in the case of one dashing pilot, She Te's newly wealthy hand in marriage. The situation worsens until Shen Te is forced to create an alter ego - Shui Ta, an imaginary male cousin who turns up to exert ruthless authority over the shop - kicking out the freeloaders and restoring order. Shen Te begins to find that life is easier in her masculine guise and Shui Ta become more and more prominent - suggesting that to be happy in life means being unsympathetic to others, ruthless, masculine and capitalist.

The fantastic design locates the play in a dusty, corrugated iron world where people wear clothes of every era - highlighting the generic human aspects of the parable, and suggesting that its lessons are universal, not confined to a place or time. Wang the lowly water seller (Cornelius Macarthy), who narrates the story to the audience and acts as point of contact between the Gods and the mortals is suitably biblical in appearance, while the three Gods could have easily just stepped off the bridge of The Starship Enterprise. The mortals meanwhile look as though they've run through a second hand shop covered in super glue, with a mixture of hippy, 60's glamour, 40's tea dresses and Nora Batty chic.

All of the performers grapple well with the difficult script, which jumps from colloquial to unnaturally elevated and back again at random pace. They also manage to bring humanity to Brecht's stock characters which are often little more than types.

Given Britain's current economic climate and the play's exploration of the relationship between a society's morality and its economic systems, it's an interesting choice by the Library Theatre - and all credit to director Chris Honer - it's a thoughtful interpretation of a difficult play.

If only it wasn't for those bloody songs...