Review: Vámpírok Bálja
Sep. 4th, 2007 04:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
winterAs promised, my remarks on Tanz der Vampire, Budapest edition. The short version: highly recommended.
The theatre
When I arrived at the theatre, I knew the show would be good. It's a question of crowd energy, and the crowd was buzzing with it, in black velvet and lace. It was like coming back to the Warsaw crowd, the excited vibration that told me those people weren't seeing the show for the first time, or the second either. I was proven right later: the ovation was rock-star, with yells and screams and wild laughter, each nuance seen and understood and applauded. I went to three shows, and saw at least two people at all three; if the show is not extended, I have a feeling they'll have a riot on their hands.
The Magyar Színház is a smallish theatre, about on a size with Raimund Theater in Vienna and smaller than the Berlin Theater des Westens, but with a well-designed auditorium and a revolving stage. It's a 1950s building with sparse decor, but they managed to secure a sponsorship from a furniture company that let them decorate the lobby in Modern Vampire Chic. The programmes were only 300 HUF (just over 1 EUR), which was appreciated, but there was a dearth of other merchandise; that could have been because of overwhelming demand, because the one time I was there that they did have t-shirts on sale, they were gone in about 20 minutes.
Overall remarks
Once the show started, the only thing that didn't knock me flat was the orchestra; they were decent, but took a while to pull together, especially in the ouverture. The show itself was - utterly brilliant, with a mad energy that rivalled any rock concert you care to name. I've been looking for the Warsaw magic in both Vienna and Berlin, but Budapest was where I found it, with all the cast delighted with being onstage, the audience ecstatic, the spell taking hold. It might be telling that Cornelius Balthus directed both Warsaw and Budapest, and I'm told he showed everyone the Warsaw DVDs while telling them that was what the show was supposed to feel like. I could tell.
The scenery, designed by Kentaur, was a gothic funfair with its own take on the original Vienna designs. Perspective tricks were all over the place in the castle sets, which created the illusion of the castle towering for miles above the audience. The inn came apart in eight pieces, and the library, bathroom and hallway in the castle were all part of a round, eight-sided revolving set that made for the smoothest transition between Bücher and Wenn Liebe. Kentaur also did the costume designs, with gorgeous and very Hungarian results, much sparklier than the Polish costumes (which I also adore), and finally a decently dressed von Krolock. My personal favourite was von Krolock's Unstillbare Gier/Tanzsaal outfit, which included a black velvet cloak with glitter all over the shoulders and a glitter-scattered, embossed Ankh cross on the back.
(And okay, not ALL good. While von Krolock got very nice fake black nails, a little more glam than the Warsaw version's French manicure, Herbert had latex gloves with fake nails attatched to them. Latex gloves, I tell you. Is that any way for a fabulous vampire to dress?)
The cast
I went to three shows all in all (Thursday and Saturday evening plus Sunday matinée) and I managed to see first and second players in all the roles except Koukol. I have to admit this is the most even cast I've heard of; unlike Warsaw, where the brilliant first cast, especially von Krolock and Herbert, but also Sarah and Alfred, was the backbone of the production, in several instances I preferred the understudies, and they certainly did not get in the way of enjoying the show.
Von Krolock: Egyházi Géza
I know that by the last verse of Nie gesehen, von Krolock enters the dark auditorium, and I looked to the side to get my first glimpse of him. Then we elbowed each other at the same moment, because we knew that haughty stance, that way of walking that was almost gliding, then the graceful sliding aside of the cape, elegant fingers unfurling to reach towards the moon.
I believe I have seen someone who's more of a Lukasz Dziedzic (Warsaw von Krolock) fan than I am.
He doesn't quite have that operatic voice; instead his baritone is clear and dramatic, whimsical at moments, reminding me of Steve Barton. But the gestures and stance, the faces and pouts were very familiar indeed. And he made them his own as well, with a dark delight and perfect command of the role. His von Krolock is poetic, refined, with a quiet and wicked sense of humour, and a demonic side that only appears rarely. His charisma doesn't let you look away, and when he froze at the end of Unstillbare Gier, tasting the roaring applause he got, I yelled my heart out with the rest of them.
Von Krolock: Nagy Sándor
I believe he hasn't been playing much, and you could tell that he was eager, bouncing and snarling at the bit. His teeth slipped occasionally, he switched words around, his sleeves were some 20cm too long (he's my height, Géza almost a foot taller), and his facial expressions were completely and utterly out of control, his eyes bulging sometimes out of breath as he realised he barely had enough of it to hold a note.
And yet it was a delightful rollercoaster at the edge of catastrophe, because Sándor so obviously loves this role, knows it, and he has an inner vampire that he doesn't even think about quenching. He is von Krolock, a von Krolock younger than even his own 27 years. Twenty, maybe twenty-three if you push it, and a wild seductive magnetic demon in his own right, with a fallen angel's rockstar tenor.
If you've seen Máté Kamarás as Death in the Miskolc production, or in any role before 2001 or so, you know the feeling. And for that matter the voice, the mannerisms, the wolfish smile; I don't know if they're related, but I wouldn't be surprised.
Sarah: Andrádi Zsanett
After Warsaw's Malwina, I have to admit I'm spoiled for spirited and pretty Sarahs, but Zsanett made up for it with a teasing energy and very believable rebeliousness. Even though she's older, she played a bright teenage girl with perfect flair, the edge between childhood and womanly strength. I loved her Stärker als wir sind acting, the change from regret to rebellion and a dark decision. Her Sarah's aware of her fate, and welcomes it; against Géza's imperious von Krolock, she was a strength with her own right, at times almost scaring him.
Sarah: Nádorfi Krisztina
I believe Krisztina was the fourth Sarah, but she definitely has the chops for second, maybe even first. She's very pretty, and her voice is sweet, though she doesn't have Zsanett's range. What made the role for me was her chemistry with Sándor's von Krolock: for the first time I saw a lead pair in this musical that did look desperately, fatally in love, the air between them sizzling. (And perhaps my eyes were fooling me, but after the fourth or fifth curtain call, when the curtain rose again, I saw them springing apart from what looked like a kiss. Which would explain things ;))
Alfred: Sánta László
With dark hair curly enough for an afro and the most fetchingly trembling knees, László is the cutest Alfred with the best acting skills I've had the pleasure to see, and I've seen some brilliant ones. His high notes could use work, but Jegercsik Csaba, Abronsius, obligingly dubbed them over in Nie Gesehen, while pretending to sleep. He has only one fault, though I'm afraid it's a big one: No chemistry with anyone in the cast. I have to admit it made me doubt the skills of some others, especially Zsanett and Dávid, in the first show I saw.
Alfred: Héger Tibor
On the other hand, Tibor and his angelic blond locks have chemistry with everyone, furniture included. He plays a stronger Alfred, with a clear tenor voice and less of a tendency to back away from people, but that doesn't mean that both Sarahs, von Krolocks and Herberts I saw with him didn't look like they were a hair away from throwing him over a shoulder and carrying him offstage for purposes of molestation ;) If he's a bit less of an actor and disappeared sometimes, that made him better as the Everyman he is, the one whose eyes the audience sees through. I have to admit I much preferred the fact he was the one I saw twice.
Abronsius: Jegercsik Csaba
Very much inspired by the Warsaw performance, Csaba had a better voice than either of our Abronsiuses. He also rivalled the best I've seen with his acting skills and body language, especially during the Nie Gesehen slapstick. His timing was superb, the silences drawn out just long enough, and he basked in the audience appreciation with a charisma of his own, especially preening during Wahrheit.
Abronsius: Sándor Dávid
Lacking Csaba's charisma, Dávid is a nice and correct Abronsius, though without the fire. The one time he made up for it was during the end of Wahrheit: where the hell was he hiding that coloratura soprano, I have no idea, but I just about fell off my chair.
Herbert: Pirgel Dávid
Dávid is handicapped by the fact slicked-back white hair doesn't really suit his long face and towering height, but he makes up for it with a wild, fey performance with a predator's edge to it. He commands the audience, moody and dismissive or delightfully bouncy, and each cape swirl draws the eye. He definitely owes royalties to the Warsaw Herbert, especially for his performance in Tanzsaal on the day he was being a petulant brat. You gotta love a Herbert who, while daddy is doing the big bitey show, is busy correcting his shirtcuffs :D
Herbert: Posta Victor
Victor is more broad-faced than Dávid, as well as shorter and less lanky and that contributes to him looking much better in the tight blue costume: third best legs on a Herbert that I've had the pleasure of seeing. He's even more predatory, shining especially in Wenn Liebe in dir ist, and if Dávid owes the Warsaw Herbert royalties, Victor should probably just transfer his entire wages. I can't say I objected, since I consider the Warsaw Herbert the best thing since sliced bread :>
Chagal: Pavletits Béla and Bot Gábor
There isn't much difference between them, either in acting or voice, though Gábor seems to be having even more fun with his role. Both get an honorary mention for the first time I've seen Chagal's big joke ("Crosses don't work on me - I'm a Jewish vampire!") both get played out properly and get roaring laughter.
Rebecca: Dobos Judit, Urbanovits Krisztina
Judit is a perfect Rebecca, fierce and maternal, the true commander of the inn. I have to admit Krisztina is not as strong either as an actress or a singer, though she did her best, even hampered by the overly large costume clearly designed for Judit.
Ensemble
Finally a Tanz der Vampire with a gothically choral vocal ensemble without a shade of pop! The conductor directed them in Ewigkeit, and oh, it was gorgeous. The dancing differed - in the first act, they took a while to get into the swing of things, and the concept for Knoblauch seemed to be 'dancing while drunk', but Carpe Noctem, especially the solo parts, were magnetic and brilliant. And definitely the best finale of the lot, again with the White and Black vampires shining.
End remarks:
I'm very happy I saw Vámpírok Bálja. I'm hoping to go again in January. And I know moments of it will stay with me.
Moments like Géza emerging from the staircase in Tanzsaal, first hands, then cloak and hair and glittering eyes. The crowd bowing to him, kneeling, and every one of the two thousand eyes in the room on him, his face and eyes and hands.
And Sándor, in a frothing fury at the end of Unstillbare Gier, whirling around to stalk backstage rather than scream, then stopping dead, turning with preternatural calmness to declare a death sentence, escalating to that long, clear note. Then crumbling to his knees.
The theatre
When I arrived at the theatre, I knew the show would be good. It's a question of crowd energy, and the crowd was buzzing with it, in black velvet and lace. It was like coming back to the Warsaw crowd, the excited vibration that told me those people weren't seeing the show for the first time, or the second either. I was proven right later: the ovation was rock-star, with yells and screams and wild laughter, each nuance seen and understood and applauded. I went to three shows, and saw at least two people at all three; if the show is not extended, I have a feeling they'll have a riot on their hands.
The Magyar Színház is a smallish theatre, about on a size with Raimund Theater in Vienna and smaller than the Berlin Theater des Westens, but with a well-designed auditorium and a revolving stage. It's a 1950s building with sparse decor, but they managed to secure a sponsorship from a furniture company that let them decorate the lobby in Modern Vampire Chic. The programmes were only 300 HUF (just over 1 EUR), which was appreciated, but there was a dearth of other merchandise; that could have been because of overwhelming demand, because the one time I was there that they did have t-shirts on sale, they were gone in about 20 minutes.
Overall remarks
Once the show started, the only thing that didn't knock me flat was the orchestra; they were decent, but took a while to pull together, especially in the ouverture. The show itself was - utterly brilliant, with a mad energy that rivalled any rock concert you care to name. I've been looking for the Warsaw magic in both Vienna and Berlin, but Budapest was where I found it, with all the cast delighted with being onstage, the audience ecstatic, the spell taking hold. It might be telling that Cornelius Balthus directed both Warsaw and Budapest, and I'm told he showed everyone the Warsaw DVDs while telling them that was what the show was supposed to feel like. I could tell.
The scenery, designed by Kentaur, was a gothic funfair with its own take on the original Vienna designs. Perspective tricks were all over the place in the castle sets, which created the illusion of the castle towering for miles above the audience. The inn came apart in eight pieces, and the library, bathroom and hallway in the castle were all part of a round, eight-sided revolving set that made for the smoothest transition between Bücher and Wenn Liebe. Kentaur also did the costume designs, with gorgeous and very Hungarian results, much sparklier than the Polish costumes (which I also adore), and finally a decently dressed von Krolock. My personal favourite was von Krolock's Unstillbare Gier/Tanzsaal outfit, which included a black velvet cloak with glitter all over the shoulders and a glitter-scattered, embossed Ankh cross on the back.
(And okay, not ALL good. While von Krolock got very nice fake black nails, a little more glam than the Warsaw version's French manicure, Herbert had latex gloves with fake nails attatched to them. Latex gloves, I tell you. Is that any way for a fabulous vampire to dress?)
The cast
I went to three shows all in all (Thursday and Saturday evening plus Sunday matinée) and I managed to see first and second players in all the roles except Koukol. I have to admit this is the most even cast I've heard of; unlike Warsaw, where the brilliant first cast, especially von Krolock and Herbert, but also Sarah and Alfred, was the backbone of the production, in several instances I preferred the understudies, and they certainly did not get in the way of enjoying the show.
Von Krolock: Egyházi Géza
I know that by the last verse of Nie gesehen, von Krolock enters the dark auditorium, and I looked to the side to get my first glimpse of him. Then we elbowed each other at the same moment, because we knew that haughty stance, that way of walking that was almost gliding, then the graceful sliding aside of the cape, elegant fingers unfurling to reach towards the moon.
I believe I have seen someone who's more of a Lukasz Dziedzic (Warsaw von Krolock) fan than I am.
He doesn't quite have that operatic voice; instead his baritone is clear and dramatic, whimsical at moments, reminding me of Steve Barton. But the gestures and stance, the faces and pouts were very familiar indeed. And he made them his own as well, with a dark delight and perfect command of the role. His von Krolock is poetic, refined, with a quiet and wicked sense of humour, and a demonic side that only appears rarely. His charisma doesn't let you look away, and when he froze at the end of Unstillbare Gier, tasting the roaring applause he got, I yelled my heart out with the rest of them.
Von Krolock: Nagy Sándor
I believe he hasn't been playing much, and you could tell that he was eager, bouncing and snarling at the bit. His teeth slipped occasionally, he switched words around, his sleeves were some 20cm too long (he's my height, Géza almost a foot taller), and his facial expressions were completely and utterly out of control, his eyes bulging sometimes out of breath as he realised he barely had enough of it to hold a note.
And yet it was a delightful rollercoaster at the edge of catastrophe, because Sándor so obviously loves this role, knows it, and he has an inner vampire that he doesn't even think about quenching. He is von Krolock, a von Krolock younger than even his own 27 years. Twenty, maybe twenty-three if you push it, and a wild seductive magnetic demon in his own right, with a fallen angel's rockstar tenor.
If you've seen Máté Kamarás as Death in the Miskolc production, or in any role before 2001 or so, you know the feeling. And for that matter the voice, the mannerisms, the wolfish smile; I don't know if they're related, but I wouldn't be surprised.
Sarah: Andrádi Zsanett
After Warsaw's Malwina, I have to admit I'm spoiled for spirited and pretty Sarahs, but Zsanett made up for it with a teasing energy and very believable rebeliousness. Even though she's older, she played a bright teenage girl with perfect flair, the edge between childhood and womanly strength. I loved her Stärker als wir sind acting, the change from regret to rebellion and a dark decision. Her Sarah's aware of her fate, and welcomes it; against Géza's imperious von Krolock, she was a strength with her own right, at times almost scaring him.
Sarah: Nádorfi Krisztina
I believe Krisztina was the fourth Sarah, but she definitely has the chops for second, maybe even first. She's very pretty, and her voice is sweet, though she doesn't have Zsanett's range. What made the role for me was her chemistry with Sándor's von Krolock: for the first time I saw a lead pair in this musical that did look desperately, fatally in love, the air between them sizzling. (And perhaps my eyes were fooling me, but after the fourth or fifth curtain call, when the curtain rose again, I saw them springing apart from what looked like a kiss. Which would explain things ;))
Alfred: Sánta László
With dark hair curly enough for an afro and the most fetchingly trembling knees, László is the cutest Alfred with the best acting skills I've had the pleasure to see, and I've seen some brilliant ones. His high notes could use work, but Jegercsik Csaba, Abronsius, obligingly dubbed them over in Nie Gesehen, while pretending to sleep. He has only one fault, though I'm afraid it's a big one: No chemistry with anyone in the cast. I have to admit it made me doubt the skills of some others, especially Zsanett and Dávid, in the first show I saw.
Alfred: Héger Tibor
On the other hand, Tibor and his angelic blond locks have chemistry with everyone, furniture included. He plays a stronger Alfred, with a clear tenor voice and less of a tendency to back away from people, but that doesn't mean that both Sarahs, von Krolocks and Herberts I saw with him didn't look like they were a hair away from throwing him over a shoulder and carrying him offstage for purposes of molestation ;) If he's a bit less of an actor and disappeared sometimes, that made him better as the Everyman he is, the one whose eyes the audience sees through. I have to admit I much preferred the fact he was the one I saw twice.
Abronsius: Jegercsik Csaba
Very much inspired by the Warsaw performance, Csaba had a better voice than either of our Abronsiuses. He also rivalled the best I've seen with his acting skills and body language, especially during the Nie Gesehen slapstick. His timing was superb, the silences drawn out just long enough, and he basked in the audience appreciation with a charisma of his own, especially preening during Wahrheit.
Abronsius: Sándor Dávid
Lacking Csaba's charisma, Dávid is a nice and correct Abronsius, though without the fire. The one time he made up for it was during the end of Wahrheit: where the hell was he hiding that coloratura soprano, I have no idea, but I just about fell off my chair.
Herbert: Pirgel Dávid
Dávid is handicapped by the fact slicked-back white hair doesn't really suit his long face and towering height, but he makes up for it with a wild, fey performance with a predator's edge to it. He commands the audience, moody and dismissive or delightfully bouncy, and each cape swirl draws the eye. He definitely owes royalties to the Warsaw Herbert, especially for his performance in Tanzsaal on the day he was being a petulant brat. You gotta love a Herbert who, while daddy is doing the big bitey show, is busy correcting his shirtcuffs :D
Herbert: Posta Victor
Victor is more broad-faced than Dávid, as well as shorter and less lanky and that contributes to him looking much better in the tight blue costume: third best legs on a Herbert that I've had the pleasure of seeing. He's even more predatory, shining especially in Wenn Liebe in dir ist, and if Dávid owes the Warsaw Herbert royalties, Victor should probably just transfer his entire wages. I can't say I objected, since I consider the Warsaw Herbert the best thing since sliced bread :>
Chagal: Pavletits Béla and Bot Gábor
There isn't much difference between them, either in acting or voice, though Gábor seems to be having even more fun with his role. Both get an honorary mention for the first time I've seen Chagal's big joke ("Crosses don't work on me - I'm a Jewish vampire!") both get played out properly and get roaring laughter.
Rebecca: Dobos Judit, Urbanovits Krisztina
Judit is a perfect Rebecca, fierce and maternal, the true commander of the inn. I have to admit Krisztina is not as strong either as an actress or a singer, though she did her best, even hampered by the overly large costume clearly designed for Judit.
Ensemble
Finally a Tanz der Vampire with a gothically choral vocal ensemble without a shade of pop! The conductor directed them in Ewigkeit, and oh, it was gorgeous. The dancing differed - in the first act, they took a while to get into the swing of things, and the concept for Knoblauch seemed to be 'dancing while drunk', but Carpe Noctem, especially the solo parts, were magnetic and brilliant. And definitely the best finale of the lot, again with the White and Black vampires shining.
End remarks:
I'm very happy I saw Vámpírok Bálja. I'm hoping to go again in January. And I know moments of it will stay with me.
Moments like Géza emerging from the staircase in Tanzsaal, first hands, then cloak and hair and glittering eyes. The crowd bowing to him, kneeling, and every one of the two thousand eyes in the room on him, his face and eyes and hands.
And Sándor, in a frothing fury at the end of Unstillbare Gier, whirling around to stalk backstage rather than scream, then stopping dead, turning with preternatural calmness to declare a death sentence, escalating to that long, clear note. Then crumbling to his knees.
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Date: 2007-09-05 04:47 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-05 04:57 pm (UTC)