Faust parts 1&2

Forget the genteel lyricism of Wordsworth and Keats, this Romantic epic has always been a chilling portrayal of human depravity and is here given the added discomfort of a 21st century frame of reference.

Feature by Laura Battle | 16 Apr 2006
Paedophilia, sodomy, fellatio, rape… John Clifford's new translation of the Faustian legend brings Goethe's masterpiece violently up-to-date. Forget the genteel lyricism of Wordsworth and Keats, this Romantic epic has always been a chilling portrayal of human depravity and is here given the added discomfort of a 21st century frame of reference. Although the general narrative is left untouched - a despairing Dr Faust sells his soul to the devil in return for pleasure and fulfilment beyond human limitations - the dialogue is littered with the frustrations of modern life: sexual innuendo, four-letter words and jibes at George W.

As Faust, Paul Brennen looks more merchant banker than ageing intellectual, but delivers a most impressive and engaging performance, capturing the character's paradoxical fragility and vigour with great aplomb. So often in theatre, it is the baddie who steals the show, and Dugald Bruce Lockhart's Mephistopheles makes no exception. Camped-up in a splendid, Kraftwerk-esque red suit (nice German touch there), he is urbane yet explosive, and like a perverted game-show host, taunts his victims in tones oddly reminiscent of Jimmy Carr's stand-up.

The two protagonists are supported by an extremely competent cast. All show great dexterity as they chop and change between numerous roles, and skillfully navigate an ambiguous line between humour and horror, maintaining a sense of purpose (and professionalism) during the play's more 'exotic' scenes. Ruth Connell deserves particular mention for her portrayal of Gretchen; childish and vulnerable, she provides a wonderfully moving characterisation.

Part I sets off in traditional fashion with Faust at his desk, but instead of an alchemist's study he inhabits a soulless space dominated by a sinister intercessory orb which flashes ethereal apparitions over the action on stage. Furnishings are limited to vast industrial shelving units stacked with dusty books, which crash to the floor at a certain climatic moment as Faust sacrifices wisdom for carnal satisfaction. What follows is a shockingly depraved exploration of pure evil through all manner of disturbing acts, but these are cleverly interspersed with moments of delicious black humour: Faust seeks eternal youth in a nightmarish 'clinic' where bloodied baboons are shown crafting hideous cosmetic enhancements, and is later seen tentatively scooping out a child's brain at the dinner table, convulsed with nausea.

Part II sees the terrifying duo continue their rampage in Ancient Greece, though ironically, it is here that the play loses its sense of tragedy. The nerve-wrenching drama of the first instalment is somewhat deflated with fussy costume and farcical antics as Faust descends to the extremes of insanity, mindless and fanatical in his pursuit of the ultimate trophy, Helen of Troy. But although some sophistication is lost in the concluding part, this thankfully does not detract from the accomplishment of the production as a whole. Commissioned to celebrate the Lyceum's 40th anniversary season, this historic piece will no doubt shock and delight audiences with its ground-breaking audacity.
Faust Parts 1 & 2 run until 8 April at Edinburgh's Royal Lyceum. (Part 1 receives 4 Skinnys, Part 2 receives 2 Skinnys)