Luchino Visconti’s The Damned shook up the world cinema in 1969, being not only a graphic indictment of the Nazi takeover of the German establishment but an acclaimed success despite being emblazoned with the MPAA’s newly established X rating. This orgiastic bloodbath of a film might not, though, seem especially suitable for stage adaptation.
Enter Ivo van Hove, the Belgian director who jolted Broadway in 2015 with his staggeringly powerful production of Arthur Miller’s A View from the Bridge at the Lyceum. Working with his longtime partner and designer, Jan Versweyveld, under the auspices of the illustrious Comédie-Française, van Hove has captured the frenzy of the Visconti film and made it all the more powerful as it unfolds live in our laps.
The historic Drill Hall at the Park Avenue Armory stretches from 66th to 67th Streets, with the Messrs. van Hove and Versweyveld spreading their playing area virtually across the entire width. It’s not a set, precisely; the central area is basically a large floor, backed by a movie screen, several surtitle boxes to translate from the French, minimal scaffolding and the architecture of the Drill Hall. Off to one side of the stage are a series of makeup tables, beyond which are elevated chairs (presumably for actors to watch when they are not “on stage”). On the other side is a raised platform with six large rectangular boxes. “Maybe coffins?” I wrote in my notepad while awaiting the performance to begin. The audience is directly opposite, on an enormous, 20-row wall of bleachers.
Which is to say, van Hove and Versweyveld have adapted their production to fit the space. One can only imagine what this production looked like when it opened, on Christmas Eve of 2016, at the Comédie’s Salle Richelieu, a resplendent jewel box. (The Comédie-produced production premiered six months earlier, at the Avignon Festival.)
The screenplay, which serves as the base of the stage adaptation, deals with a family of German steel industrialists who are unwillingly and violently swallowed up by Hitler and his war machine. Visconti seems to have in mind the Krupps of Essen; here they are called the Essenbecks. But as intrigue entwines the family, Visconti also seems to have in mind Lady Macbeth and her doomed husband.
The action takes place between the burning of the Reichstag (in February 1933) and the Night of the Long Knives (in June 1934), during which Hitler cemented his power by violently wiping out one set of his loyalists (the brown-shirted SA) in favor of the black-shirted SS. This was, historians tell us, a bloody and decadent affair—and we get a fair dose of it at the Armory. The masterful production might indeed be too intense for the feint of heart, and not only because of the blood, nudity, tarring-and-feathering, etc.
Hitler and his minions win, not surprisingly, although the action foreshadows the fall of the Reich. And let it be said, some of the goings-on feel surprisingly current—I mean, like this week—and the English surtitles do indeed have multiple mention of “deplorables.” No small-handed actors with yellow hair, though.
The direct-from-Paris cast is phenomenal. Standing out are Elsa Lepoivre, as the Machiavellian mother Sophie; Christophe Montenez as her beloved, sadistic son Martin; Guillaime Gallienne as Friedrich, the non-aristocratic lover she pushes to power; Clément Hervieu-Léger as cousin Günther, who survives it all; Éric Génovèse, who pulls the plot strings as the suitably named Wolf; and—until he gets bumped off, early on—Didier Sandre as the patriarch Joachim. Sandre’s death scene—the less described, the better—is beyond harrowing, the more so because it is before a live audience.
As for the work of van Hove and Versweyveld, it is ineffective to try to describe what it is they do; it really must be seen and sensed and felt. To say that they expand the dimensions and capabilities of the stage only touches on the matter. Here, they make continuous and fascinating use of video, designed by Tal Yarden. There is also effective use of music, with the mournful tones of a lone bass clarinet penetrating the confines of the Drill Hall.
On numerous occasions, we see conflicting visuals. As audience members, we must choose what to watch among what is happening on stage; side conversations, from the dressing room tables, for example; and the video screen over the stage, which provides closeups caught by two roaming videographers. Although the viewer will be wise not to exactly trust the video.
The Park Avenue Armory brings New York a variety of cultural events for limited runs, only some of which are theatrical attractions. This season’s pair, the Young Vic’s Yerma and the Comédie-Française’s The Damned, have both had audiences fighting to get in. And no wonder.
The Damned opened July 17, 2018, at Park Avenue Armory and runs through July 28. Tickets and information: armoryonpark.org
