FFWD Weekly
Copyright © 1998 All Rights Reserved.
| THEATRE PREVIEW When Theatre Calgary artistic director Ian Prinsloo encouraged Nikki Lundmark to apply for the directing intern position at the Shaw Festival, she laughed him off, comparing acceptance to a winning lottery ticket. But after six blissfully exhausting months at the festival, she's now ready to try out her theories and newly honed skills on Arthur Miller's 1947 classic, All My Sons. The play that kickstarted Miller's career has become for Lundmark a personal search for excellence. "What makes outstanding theatre?" she asks. "Prior to going to the Shaw Festival, I didn't know what that was. But while I was there, I learned a lot about meticulousness. It's not that they're doing anything different. It's that they work really hard at it. They don't give up on things. They keep digging. "And I think that's part of the reason I'm so exhausted. I've decided to keep working. I get to a place where I think, 'This is good. This is really good. But there's more.'" The play charts the destruction of a prosperous American family when they discover that its patriarch built the family business by selling faulty cylinder heads to the army airforce during World War II. Even today, it seems a particularly heinous crime. But what's even more resonant is the profound conflict that arises between Joe and his son, Chris, who served in the war. "Chris blames his father very much, but the father doesn't see it the same way. He feels he made a mistake, but he doesn't feel he murdered anybody.... If he had owned up to what he'd done, he would have lost his business. And for Joe Keller, that's the most important thing. He wanted to build up the business and give it to his son." Lundmark says the play pits family duty against responsibility to society - with disastrous effects. "Everything that Joe Keller is trying to protect, he ultimately loses. He did this for his son and in the end, it's the very thing that destroys him." According to Lundmark, All My Sons confirms Miller's role as the conscience of America. "The play asks the question, 'If someone you adore committed a horrible crime like murder, would you turn him in or would you keep his secret? And can you live with your decision?'" What Lundmark calls "the paradox of denial" is perhaps best illustrated in the character of Kate, Joe's wife, who is ultimately crippled by the secret she's forced to keep. "The relationships inside the play are so well written. That's why it remains a classic. It's not just about wartime crimes. It's also about family and about how denial can not serve you. In fact, it can make things worse." Lundmark approaches the script with a vision that's all her own, working the play's inflated sense of drama to the fullest. "I kept reading it and seeing Greek tragedy. Joe has done this horrible thing and he's now trying to cover up the cracks. But the cracks (in the family), like the cracks in the cylinder heads, keep reappearing." In her search for excellence, Lundmark admits she has been pushing everyone, including herself, pretty hard. But she says it's important to keep in mind the needs of the cast. "I try to get on stage once a year because I have to be reminded how hard it is. You need so much support. You need to be told that you're good. You need someone to verify what you're doing and help you through problems. Sometimes that's easy to forget as a director. I think there's a thousand ways to skin a cat so you should find something both you and the actor like." |