Revu The Resistible Rise of Arturo Ui

“The Resistibel Rise of Arturo Ui”

When Milo Marsh first started talking to me about directing an Oxford University Drama Society show, it was Spring of 2024, and the topic was Macbeth. It just so happened that, very soon after, it was announced that Wadham college’s very active Drama society would be putting on Macbeth that October. This dashed Marsh’s plan, but it presented an opportunity for us to perform together in a play we both loved (we ended up having a great time giving Ross and Macduff in Wadham’s incredible antechapel). His next idea was King Lear, which hadn’t been produced in Oxford for a decade. Once again, somebody else gets there first. This time, we must split up, as he is wanted to play Katurian in what turns out to be an incredible production of The Pillowman. So, in March 2025, I do Lear, and Marsh does Pillowman (and does an excellent job, I might add). His third directing vision is for Rhinoceros, a French play I’ve never heard of, but the same exact thing happens - another group almost immediately announces that they’re doing it. We begin to joke that someone is eavesdropping on our conversations.

All of this brings us to tonight, when I am finally on my way to see a show Marsh has directed. His production of The Resistible Rise of Arturo Ui is being facilitated by Full Moon Theatre, who previously put on Blood Wedding at the Oxford Playhouse. I confess it is my personal most-anticipated production of the term. This is due partly to the aforementioned journey Marsh’s directing visions have undergone, partly to hints the director has given me over the last few months as he created it, and largely to the apparent relevance of a play about the rise of nationalistic fascism in our post-“Island-of-Strangers” world of Kemi Badenoch, Tommy Robinson, Nigel Farage, and, of course, Donald Trump.

Bertolt Brecht's The Resistible Rise of Arturo Ui follows the progressive domination of Capone-era Illinois by the titular gangster (Hugh Linklater) via control of the cauliflower trade, which closely parallels the rise of Adolf Hitler in the same period. Written in 1941, the play explicitly satirizes Hitler's manipulative ascent to power in Germany, exposing him as essentially a ruthless gangster.

“The Resistible Rise of Arturo Ui”

The relevance of Brecht's somewhat "tongue-in-cheek" cauliflower narrative to the machinations of fascism is made vividly clear by Marsh's production in two innovative ways. The first is the introduction of an Announcer (Ademide Obagun), a kind of Cabaret-styled Emcee, who verbally delivers the text allocated in Brecht's script to a prologue, epilogue, and placards. The result is a series of inter-scene interjections which make explicit the parallels between Ui's actions onstage, and those of Hitler in reality. The second is an excellent utilisation of Sound (designed by Anna Gjetnes) in the play's final moments, which chillingly emphasizes its final lines: "The nations put [Hitler] where his kind belong./ But don't rejoice too soon at your escape -/ The womb he crawled from still is going strong." We all walk out of the Pilch feeling a little more frightened about some of the ideological movements increasingly dominating our news coverage and political discourse - which is, of course, exactly what Brecht and Marsh intend.

The relevance of the narrative to our current context is also emphasized by Isabelle Hamilton Dale's ingenious Set Dressing, which sees the walls and pillars of the Pilch (including its small foyer) plastered with newspapers. Half of these are beautifully fabricated to forecast the events of the play; half are real headlines from the past few years, many of which detail Trump's various movements towards a United States which today holds around 52,000 immigrants in ICE detention centers (Guardian). The blending of reality and satirical fantasy here has a distinct effect - this is a production which will never let us forget that we are watching a piece of political theatre.

Another highlight of the design is Jasmine Ashworth and Méryl Vourch's spectacular Costume, poised at every moment to vitalize a huge variety of characters, since the cast of 8 must constantly multi-role. So, we see gangsters in fedoras, cauliflower moguls in top hats, politicians in suits and flapper girls in fur. Particularly noteworthy are the Announcer's gorgeous red velvet three-piece suit, which is gradually replaced by a fully black ensemble complete with a hulking pitch leather cloak. Ui's crimson suit is similarly effective in accentuating his eye-catching eccentricity, framed as it is with a bright red fedora and burgundy boots. The real genius or Ashworth and Vourch's design, though, is that the actors begin the play in a diverse set of colourful coats, suits and the like, which throughout the play slowly morphs to become darker and more simple. By the final scene, all are dressed in the same black uniform, providing a profound visual impression of a descent into homogenizing fascism.

We come, then, to the performances, the effectiveness of which is a little more complicated. Overall, this is an ensemble committed to collaborative performance, faithfully moulding itself to Marsh's potent directorial vision. That said, there are a few issues (perhaps first-night stumbles) - volume and pace are significant ones. If lines were delivered with a little more volume and energy, and much quicker on their cues, the tension of the onstage action would be allowed to build much more productively. Scene transitions are also somewhat sluggish - when scenes get going, they're usually brilliant, but their beginnings and endings perhaps need tightening. These issues, though, are generally only felt in large, complicated scenes where most or all of the cast are onstage, and many must play multiple roles within them, so some hesitancy on the first night is somewhat understandable.

Some very strong supporting performances come from Davey Jerrit as Clark (Franz von Papen) and various other characters; and Tristan Morse as Giuseppe Givola (Joseph Goebbels). As one would anticipate, Rohan Joshi is a highlight as Ernesto Roma (Ernst Röhm). Bringing a kind of fierce gravitas that his castmates are not aiming for, Joshi is the one we can believe as a brutish gangster ("you're both jerks, and I'm a man"), although this never detracts from his almost child-like hope for a kind of brotherhood with Ui ("Say, the two of us! Say, you/ And me! Like in the good old days").

I must confess that I remain somewhat undecided on Obagun's turn as the Announcer. I am currently preparing to take on the challenge of a Cabaret's-Emcee-esque role in February, which for me would seem very difficult. On one hand, whilst watching Obagun I become convinced that it all needs to be given a little more musicality and physical flair than we see here. On the other hand, the way she sometimes twists and contorts her fingertips is full of hypnotic flair, and she is quite strong when slipping into the role of Fish (Marinus van der Lubbe).

When Marsh was holding auditions for the play in October, I brought up the recent announcement that Mark Gatiss would be taking on the role for the RSC in Spring. "Whoever plays [Ui] has got to compete with that a little bit," reads one message I sent in our conversation, "you want to be able to bring something to it that [Gatiss] won't." Of course, Gatiss won't be the first legendary actor to give the part (Al Pacino, John Turturro, Anthony Sher, Lenny Henry and Simon Callow have all had a go), but the imminent approach of an anticipated large-scale production is more than enough to make an actor feel some pressure. I can confidently say that Gatiss, whatever he does, will not be quite like Linklater's depiction, which is filled with the latter's characteristic flamboyance. Having mainly seen Linklater in comedic roles, I admit that I was somewhat surprised when Marsh told me who was to play Ui, but the strength of this lead performance is precisely in the manic, eccentric and humorous moments that he excels at. A deliberate decision here has been made to avoid, at least until the final scene, mimicking Hitler's fist-clenching mannerisms or impassioned style of barking out speeches (a choice echoed by Ashworth and Vourch's avoidance of any costuming resemblances to Nazi uniform). Instead, Linklater's portrayal emphasizes the ridiculous and self-important aspects of Ui - intimidation comes not from militaristic shouting or physical presence, but from the sheer unpredictability of a murderous cartoon character. So, Marsh and Linklater's Arturo Ui is much more Chaplin's Adenoid Hynkler than Adolf Hitler, but on the whole he works well as the satirical centre of the play.

Perhaps my favourite performance of the night, though, comes from Harold Greenfields as Old Dogsborough (Paul von Hindenburg), the Actor, and Dullfeet (Engelbert Dollfuss) among other roles. Although most of the cast have roles they are more comfortable in, and others in which they struggle, Greenfields becomes a huge presence in each of his parts, which he is able to make unmistakably distinct. Actually, some of the play's most captivating and entertaining sequences are those in which Greenfields and Linklater are interacting, both when Ui is plying Dogsborough ("I appeal to you/ As man to man"), and in the scene involving the Actor ("art is my life"). In short, Greenfields is compelling and full of character as Dogsborough, funny as the Actor, pitiable as Dullfeet, and a pleasure to watch in every scene.

A single conversation with Marsh over a pint is enough to prove him a viable candidate for the person in the Oxford University Drama Society who knows most about theatre, and this is more than evident in his lively production. On the walk home, I am grateful both for talented friends and for having experienced this ever-relevant play. Full Moon's retelling has not just preserved but emphasized and vitalized Brecht's political intention, resulting in a poignant reminder of the power of polemical theatre.

3.5/5

Review by George Loynes

The link to George Loynes’s review blog is: https://roomwithreviewblog.blogspot.com/?m=1&fbclid=PAZXh0bgNhZW0CMTEAAadKaD9DWn-5mwBnPczPWh3KXF0Wm5MTE_D9WbXEiWAbpuhhg9yNdnyYWKaYSg_aem_MX4-paKRuQoHXi7vgFXpPw

“The Resistible Rise of Arturo Ui”