There is much debate over the recent trend towards screening theatre in cinema, either as a live broadcast or as an ‘encore’ performance, captured and relayed at a later date. To date I have seen two encore performances, Danny Boyle’s Frankenstein (starring Johnny Lee Miller as the creature as Benedict Cumberbatch as the creator) and Yaël Farber’s The Crucible (with Richard Armitage as John Proctor). There is an obvious draw in casting big name actors in lead roles on stage, the success of which can of course be further exploited via worldwide transmission. But I am still undecided on my feelings about the concept of theatre on screen.
Overall, I think screening theatrical productions is a good idea. It has enabled me to see performances I would otherwise have missed out on, due to cost, travel or timing. Definitely, I can see the argument for screenings opening up theatre to new audiences. 80% of The Crucible’s audience at Birmingham’s Electric Cinema were teenagers who were studying (or had studied) the play at school. How many of them would have decided to spend a Sunday afternoon with their mates at the theatre?
But something was strangely lacking as the actors took their curtain call; a mute staring audience was already picking up their mobiles to see what they’d missed since the interval. At both performances I’ve seen so far there has been a faint ripple of applause. It’s an odd concept, with audiences unsure how to show their appreciation to people who are not there to receive it. I was struck by how suddenly distant I felt from the drama I had been so expertly sucked into. I was exhausted and I wanted to share it.
Seeing the actors’ expressions close-up though is a treat rarely possible in the theatre; were it not for an intimate edit up on the big screen, I would not have been startled by Abigail’s eyes, distressed by Proctor’s wounded animal or torn by Elizabeth’s anguished sadness. And yet the close-ups afforded by the cameras remove the all seeing eye of the theatre-goer. I am not entitled to observe the other characters while the protagonist steals the limelight. I have less choice in making my own judgement.
Without doubt, the staging of a play influences its capture. The Crucible was performed in the round, the whites of the audiences’ eyes encircling the actors in the darkness, just like the residents of Salem as they hunted out the imagined evil among them. Likewise, the filming was suffocatingly close-up, the cinema-goers gaze right there in the midst of the actors on stage, pulling you into the frenzy of paranoia and resentment. Danny Boyle’s Frankenstein on the other hand, performed in the traditional set-up of stage front, audience at a respectable distance, relied heavily on overhead shots and wide-angled lenses, affording a view of the whole stage at all times. I felt more like a spectator. Would it perhaps be a step too far to suggest the overhead viewpoint was intended to be almost godlike? Emphasising the play’s moral question over the consequences of taking god’s work into human hands?
The filming of theatre then seems to give it a different dimension. Theatre is about the suspension of disbelief, and an intimacy and shared experience between actor and audience. Placing a camera in between the two alters the dynamic; the performance must be filtered through a third viewpoint. This may direct our reaction to a greater extent, but it may also enhance our understanding.
Cinema is a great normaliser, and I would utterly recommend taking advantage of big screen theatre as an affordable and accessible way of enjoying some amazing performances. However, it doesn’t beat the atmosphere of sitting in the theatre, the actors are feeding off your reactions, their craft palpably close. Were there to be a second run of Frankenstein or The Crucible I wouldn’t hesitate to see them again, for real.
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