November 12, 2003 Culture e the other press © The Jury Barbara K. Adamski Features Editor The moment I enter Douglas College’s Studio Theatre for the open- ing night performance of the Jury, | am struck by the austerity. In the centre of the studio stands a table and 12 chairs—the jury room. The audience sits around the open floor space, in a courtroom-like atmos- phere, essentially preparing to be flies on the wall during a jury delib- eration. The Jury is based on the 50’s film classic, Twelve Angry Men by Reginald Rose, featuring Henry Fonda. In the Douglas College ver- sion, directed by Stephen Drover, Matt Zustovic does an admirable job playing the protagonist that Fonda played half a century ago. As the original title implies, there is an abundance of anger in the play. The emotions in the characters are a result of their own person- al baggage, their disappointments, their unfulfilled dreams. This cre- ates inherent problems for the actors playing the 12 jurors. As Drover states in his Director's Notes, “‘Angry’ was the result of something else that the characters were doing [...] To go on the stage and ‘play angry’ would be disastrous.” After reading Drover’s notes, I made a point to concentrate on the effective- ness of the anger in the play, and was impressed. Watching others’ anger can, sometimes, be funny. There are numerous points in the play when, in the heat of the moment, comments that are downright stupid—and thus hilarious—are made. But while the audience laughed, and laughed hard, the actors managed to ignore it—an often-difficult task, consider- ing that the absence of a for- The Couglas Cotiege Oaparinonts of Sagecrah and Theaire preqeni A drama about the power of one mal stage made the cast and | Newember # to 15 audience within feet of each November fv other classic Aer Twelve Angry Mer The acting was so well done ; ‘ay. Shudio Thestrettor 4! 4aFeurth Floor North that I found myself liking -» TR Raye Avecoetin Wiese ae Douglas Cobege One at tater eres Sion Sahn characters or not liking char- acters, rather than judging the quality of the acting. Characters seemed real and credible, from the Eastern European immigrant with his admiration for the democratic process (played by Douglas College graduate Shaun Aquiline) to the painfully annoying Southern advertising belle played by Anneliese Washington. Even the not-so-bright young lady who can barely count is delightful. And a great touch is the guard’s final closing of the door after the curtain call. Watch for it. While the stage props are sparse, the attention to detail is phenom- enal. At the very start, we see a clock—an old fifties-style wall clock— showing the late-afternoon time. On the floor, an unseen window has cast light, which soon fades to darkness, marking the end of the jury’s sixth day in a 1953 New York courtroom. While there is nothing dramatic about the passage of time in a normal day, for the 12 select- ed jurors called on to decide guilt or innocence in what appears to be a fairly cut-and-dried first degree murder case, time is everything. The play itself gives insight into the minds of jurors, and of socie- ty in general, for we all seem to judge based on our own personal value system, prejudging others from time to time based on what we want to believe, not necessarily on the truth. The Jury points out inherent flaws in our legal system, in which 12 people, not living in emotional vacuums, decide the fate of another human being, when in reality their only job is to decide whether or not there is reasonable doubt. The build-up of tension in the Jury is highly effective, and the one time there is a lull in the tension, it is likely intentional, allowing a more dramatic lead into the last scene. The only room for improvement I could possibly suggest would be a slightly longer delay before the curtain call. I was still under the spell of the powerful final scene, when the actors came out with smiles on their faces and a spring in their step, abruptly bringing me back to present-day New Westminster, when I really wanted to remain in 1953 New York. November 7—15 Studio Theatre Room, 4140, Douglas College The Matka King Janice Bennett OP Contributor Top Rani—King of the Matka, says: “This is how you tell a story—you keep it short and simple and everybody has to die in the end.” And if you've seen the Arts Club Theatre Company’s pres- entation of The Matka King, you might qualify that state- ment by saying, “...but not before they all put on sequin bras and shake it up to some techno music.” The Matka King, written by Anosh Irani and directed by Rachel Ditor, takes place in a red-light district in present-day Bombay. It’s a story about a brothel operator, Top Rani, who pulls cards from a Matka jar, engaging the other slum inhab- itants in a weekly game of chance, making him the “Matka King.” The irony is that this king is a hijera, or eunuch, and therefore a social pariah in Indian society. The Matka game means more to Top Rani, who dreams of engaging the “myth of merit” in order to gain back his manhood, lost in adoles- cence when he was sold as a slave and turned into a eunuch. To the Matka King, the game is prayer, “we have a thousand Gods,” he says, “at least one must be in charge of cocks...” Craig Veroni plays Top Rani brilliantly and flamboyantly in his Arts Club debut. His char- acter narrates the play, address- ing the audience in aside, but also acting as the protagonist, moving within the constraints of his own game. He is like a demi-god, controlling the lives of prostitutes and gamblers, who play off him in despera- tion, each seeking wholeness in their own way. The foil of all these wounded and brutalized characters is a little girl—Aarti, played by Anouska Anderson Kirby. She’s a slum child wrapped by her friend Gantaal, a homeless old man, in a white blanket that they pretend is a set of wings. When Aarti’s father Saata wagers her into prostitu- tion to the Matka King, the souls of all hang in the balance of the cards Top Rani will pull. The Matka King seeks to be made whole; Aarti’s wholeness is threatened; Satta gambles what is most precious to him; and Gantaal and the aging pros- titute Chandi can only watch, helpless, as the game plays out. The story of The Matka King is told with dark humour and magic realism where the dead, complete with tire tracks, come back to speak to the living (and join in .any impromptu .dance numbers that occur). It’s a story of chaos and poverty, of wound- edness and brutality, and of hope and redemption. It’s a game of chance, and innocence is wagered like cash-on-the-bar- rel. We are never sure, until the end, if any of the characters will find the wholeness, the redemp- tion they seek, because, as Top Rani tells us, “...these Hindi movies are fooling everybody into thinking they will be res- But don’t let the sequined bras fool you—this is no Hindi movie. cued.” Animation Compilation to Premiere in Vancouver Amanda Aikman Culture Editor Raider Production’s first-annual animated shorts compilation feature, North Americas Best Independent Animated Shorts (NABIAS), will debut at the Pacific Cinematheque on Nov 29. The film features 16 inde- pendent animated shorts from Canada, the US, and Mexico, representing claymation, com- puter graphics, and traditional animation. Initiated by executive produc- er Aaron Keogh, the project was developed to provide independ- ent animators with the rare opportunity to showcase their work publicly. The animators who were chosen, were done so via a selection process that began with 9000 potential can- didates—a number that was then narrowed to 1200, then 117, and eventually to the lucky 16 who made the final cut. Among those fortunate few were two Canadians, including Vancouver’ss own Hannah Cho http://www.-otherpress.ca w “Wawa for her short, and Coco.” NABIS is scheduled to have two Vancouver screenings (1 and 3pm) and tickets are avail- able either at the door or in advance from Raider Productions (604.291.7727). Organizers stress that the film is appropriate for the entire family, and enjoyable for both animation fans and profession- als alike. e Page 15