Review: La Strada, Bristol Old Vic

Based on Federico Fellini’s seminal film, La Strada is the story of Gelsomina (Audrey Brisson), a country girl bought from her mother for 10,000 lire by brutal circus strongman Zampano (Stuart Goodwin) to act as his assistant. Their relationship develops through a series of snapshot scenes, bringing Gelsomina into contact with Il Matto (Bart Soroczynski) – a performing fool who tries to show her that there’s more to life than she imagines – and ultimately culminating in sadness and tragedy.

The Old Vic’s new adaptation brings together a host of Bristol’s stalwart talents, including director Sally Cookson, writer Mike Akers, composer Benji Bower and designer Katie Sykes, together with a multinational cast and on-stage musicians. It should be brilliant. But, sadly, it’s not.

Pics: Robert Day

There is an emptiness at the heart of this production in which all the characters lack… well, character. There’s a difference between stylised and wooden, and the fact that every single performance falls the wrong side of that line suggests that it is a conscious directorial decision rather than any failing on the part of the cast. But why? It means that the characters are without depth or any sort of inner rationale. There is nothing for the audience to engage with.

The strongman and the fool are all surface. Watching Stuart Goodwin’s one-dimensional Zampano, it’s hard to believe that the last time he stood on the Old Vic’s stage he was tearing up the scenery as a bravura Wicked Fairy in Cookson’s Sleeping Beauty. Here he presents nothing more than a crude, id-driven caricature. And although Soroczynski is certainly a fine unicyclist, there is too little here to make any judgment on his acting ability. It means that both characters are left as simple cyphers, unsympathetic archetypes who merely provide a black and white backdrop for Gelsomina.

That might work if she were in any way engaging. But Brisson opts to play the part without light, shade or anything that could make the audience care about her. Her performance has the sing-song speech of a three-year-old, the awkward walk of Charlie Chaplin’s little tramp and the far-away stare of the permanently disengaged. There is no insight into any sort of inner life, growth or longing. Despair and joy are presented with the same deadpan delivery. There is no person here to care about, and therefore nothing at the heart of the show.

The end result is that all the characters in La Strada are neither likeable nor dislikeable: they just are. This may be a completely intentional display of very clever post-Brechtian, hyper-existentialist brilliance. But it does not make for a good night at the theatre, which becomes nothing more than a series of flickering shadow plays signifying nothing and touching no-one.

It is almost inevitable that audience members will draw parallels with the Old Vic’s other recent visit to the vivid, exotic world of the circus, The Grinning Man. That offered a very similar stylised world and non-naturalistic performance. But it also delivered engaging characters that an audience could care about. It made you feel, and it left you moved and enriched. That’s what good theatre does, and what this production utterly fails to do. La Strada is a prettily painted paper bag of a show: superficially attractive, but ultimately flimsy and empty.

La Strada continues at Bristol Old Vic until Saturday, April 22. For more info and to book tickets, visit www.bristololdvic.org.uk/lastrada.html