The Good Person of Szechuan

It's hard to see plays by Bertolt Brecht.  There are several reasons for this.  First, Brecht wrote for a large repertory company that could cast as many as 25 or 30 speaking roles.  Current theater groups don't have access to the personnel resources that most of Brecht's plays demand.  Second, Brecht's politics were despicable and this colors American appreciation of his work.  Third, Brecht's plays often seem defended by rebarbative hedges of theory about Epic Theater and the Verfremdungseffekt; this theory, which is carefully worked out and expressed  by the playwright with Teutonic earnestness, tends to obscure the very real pleasures that Brecht offers in his plays -- one tends to imagine his theater performed by unattractive, sweaty proles smelling of body odor and prone to harangue the audience.  But, of course, Brecht survives in spite of the ideological and theoretical armor in which his plays are clad.  It is not well appreciated in English-speaking countries that Brecht was one of Germany's greatest poets, a mournful and witty writer who is often on par with Heine.  Furthermore, Brecht's plays are intricately designed and generally very compelling.  In other words, he writes good plays in spite of himself. 

Ten Thousand Things Theater, a Minneapolis based company, has taken to heart some of Brecht's political admonitions (probably with more sincerity than the notoriously slippery playwright) and makes plays for people who would not otherwise attend the theater.  The Company achieves its audiences by taking the theater to the people.  Ten  Thousand Things (TTT) has presented plays in homeless shelters, prisons, churches, and other non-theatrical venues.  The production of The Good Person of Szechuan that I saw on Wednesday, April 25, 2018 was presented in cafeteria of Rochester Community and Technical College; TTT's show on the 26th of April will be in a Church basement.  When I went to see The Good Person, of course, I found my way to the elaborate proscenium theater in the student center.  But I was then told to go to the cafeteria upstairs where I found a hollow square of chairs and some stanchions supporting cardboard arches to signify doors or thresholds.  Props were arranged along a couple of cafeteria tables.  The show was presented by 9 actors, all but two of them playing as many as four roles.  The need to double, triple, and quadruple parts could create some confusion in a production of The Good Person since a central plot point involves a character forced to play two roles as part of the drama itself. (Any confusion that this might engender was explained by the director in a helpful introductory remark.)  TTT believes theater must be accessible to all -- accordingly, tickets cost precisely zero.  (I donated 20 dollars, probably not enough in light of the show's excellence, as an offering for my attendance with Jack -- at the end of the show, the audience is encouraged to stuff money in bucket although there is no pressure of any kind supporting this request.)  Of course, since the show is presented "in the round", in a college cafeteria, there are no lighting effects and no scenery, the actors demonstrate their versatility and proficiency as quick change artists.  In the climactic trial scene, involving all the characters, some of the parts are represented by dummies and puppets and people change hats and coats with lightning speed in front of the audience almost quickly enough to simulate dialogue with themselves.  (There is an aspect of this play reminiscent of the British theater version of Hitchcock's 39 Steps in which all characters are played, to comic effect, by two actors -- in The Good Person, men play women and vice-versa and, at times, the doubling or quadrupling of parts is exploited for humor.) 

The Good Person of Szechuan is an excellent introduction to Brecht.  The story concerns a poor, but goodhearted prostitute, who becomes unexpectedly prosperous.  Three Gods, called The Enlightened Ones, are searching the earth for a virtuous person.  The only good person that they can find is the prostitute, Shen Te.  (The action takes place in a mythical version of China where ancient gods brush elbows with modern pilots and tobacco factories.)  When Shen Te, lets the Gods stay in her humble shack for the night (they are exceedingly uncomfortable there) they reward her by giving the young woman one-thousand silver dollars.  Shen Te uses the money to buy a tobacco store.  Immediately, she is besieged by various spongers and parasites, as well as collateral cousins and distant relatives who want loans from her.  She is counseled to be more businesslike and tougher.  Shen Te is too passive to drive hard bargains and so she invents an aggressive, brutal masculine persona -- this is her alleged cousin, the rough and tough Shui Ta. When she needs to refuse a loan or dishonor a claim, she dresses as a man and appears as Shui Ta.  Complications ensue when she falls in love with a ne'er-do-well mail pilot and dips into her savings to finance his career -- the pilot gets her pregnant and, promptly, plans to dump her and fly to another city with his ill-gotten gains.  (He confesses this to the manly and cynical Shui Ta, who is, of course, her alter-ego and, then, confronts the pilot in her yielding female persona.)  The plot demonstrates that in a profit-oriented Capitalist society love is just another commodity -- this is similar to Fassbinder's assertion that love is really about power and domination.  The pilot ends up working as a foreman in Shen Te's tobacco factory where he turns out to be a fearsome taskmasker.  There are further complications involving a fat old man who loves Shen Te and offers to be her "sugar daddy."  Ultimately, Shen Te becomes marginal -- the kindly, loving prostitute is shoved to the sidelines by the cruel and avaricious Shui Ta.  Shui Ta is accused of murdering Shen Te which results in a trial and revelation of Shen Te's ruse -- she exposes herself as pregnant.  The three Gods preside over the trial and they announce that Shen Te is the only virtuous person on earth (and that she is only half-virtuous).  Shen Te complains that the Gods have made the world so that it is impossible to survive in the jungle of greed and betrayal and remain virtuous.  The God's have nothing to say to this indictment and ride away on clouds singing "goodbye" and "toodle-oo" to the anguished Shen Te.  The play is very clever, filled with songs (performed by a musician who uses percussion and an accordion to accompany the action) and it is uncompromisingly cynical and unsentimental -- Brecht's poor people are just as self-interested and avaricious as his elites:  everyone steals from everyone else, and Brecht, who was himself notoriously crooked, takes obvious delight in the scams and chicanery.  The play establishes that business is inimical to virtue -- but we need business in order to survive.  (Curiously, the plot of this play seems to have been adapted by Fassbinder in his famous film Fox and his Friends, a movie about a hapless male hustler who wins the lottery and is ultimately destroyed by his own success and by the demands placed upon him false friends.)

The acting is broad and beyond reproach.  The characters are all vividly portrayed and very funny.  Brecht didn't much believe in psychology and the show demonstrates his disdain for "character" -- Brecht's view is that your social function establishes your character which is basically the degree to which you are allowed by fiscal circumstances to conceal the crimes by which you survive.  The poor have to display their criminality more than the wealthy -- but, everyone, without exception, is a criminal.  When an actor suddenly changes voice and posture and becomes someone else simply because he or she has put on a new, floppy hat, this transformation is integral to Brecht's views about human identity.  I thought the production was excellent and, in fact, will seek out future shows by this excellent company.  (If you are reading this note on April 26, you can see this show in Rochester at the First Unitarian Universalist Church on Thursday, April 26, 2018 -- I highly recommend your attendance.)