This latest China-based production of the comedy is not about money, stars, or even an Expat in Chinese Film and TV Award: It’s about the art. To learn more, and help shift some tickets, Beijing Cream had a quick chat with the cast of this 90-minute modernist comedy about “three people losing their shit over a painting” (curtains rise 7.30pm on Thursday; tickets 100 kuai).

Beijing Cream: (stroking chin) So why Art?

Carlos Ottery (actor, Yvan): A screenwriter pal of mine, Peter, wanted to direct the play in Beijing a few years ago but it fell through, as these things often do… putting it on at has been at the back, the very back, of my mind for quite a while.

Gregory Joseph Allen (director/actor, Marc) From the very beginning this has really been all about a small group of like-minded artists falling in love with a script and wanted to share it with others. Oh, and chicks dig theatre nerds… they do, right? Right? I hope that I didn’t just waste three months of my life. Shit.

BJC: Why are there so few small indie productions, like Art, in Beijing?

CO: Money. Unless you are talking about a big Broadway-style show or a particularly commercial performance, theatre makes bugger-all cash. These days a lot of people in Beijing are in things for the money alone…People prefer to lose 10 million dollars on a film that will never get made, or to watch something with Vin Diesel topless, and who can blame them for that.

The other thing is censorship, which seeps in everywhere. It effects everything: public discourse, books, TV, theatre. Who can be arsed putting on a good show, only to be told at the last minute that the censors want you to change things, due to some imagined sensitivity?

GJA: Because producing a play of any kind is really fucking hard to do, dude. I am only kind of kidding… There is just a lot involved in the putting-together of a play intended for public presentation, and unless you are really passionate about what you are doing, it’s hard to justify all of the time and work that it takes to get it done. Also, there are only so many theatre-loving expat actors in Beijing… Most of the quality actors that I know are trying to pay the bills by gigging in the local film and television market. They don’t really have the luxury of taking the time to do a play.

But is it Art? Greg’s knitted vest raises challenging questions

BJC: What are the cast’s theatrical bona fides – other than being three out-of-work chaps who can speak English?

CO: Ha. You have got me down. Even when I am gainfully employed, which I occasionally am, people still seem to think I am out of work. I think it something to do with the way I dress.

Greg is a good one to deconstruct. He played American football in his youth and he has that build, a cross between a drill sergeant and a bouncer. Yet at the same time, he strides around rehearsals quoting Shakespeare soliloquies… he lives and breathes theatre. He’s done hundreds of Equity performances, talks endlessly about Chekov and Stanislavsky, that sort of thing. Basically, if the show comes anywhere close to being remotely professional, then it is all down to him.

GJA: Stand back, bitches, and let the tootin’ begin… I have been acting for about 40 years. I have been in over 100 stage productions of one kind or another. I have a B.A. in Theatre Arts, and an M.F.A. in Theatre Arts: Acting and Directing. I have spent the last six years teaching theatre at Tsinghua International School, and since arriving in China I have had the pleasure of acting in several locally produced films [note Gregory’s role as “American Prick” in last year’s Jackie Chan-Jonny Knoxville flick Skiptrace– Ed]. And if you have ever wondered, yes, it is pretty fucking cool to see your big-ass head on an IMAX screen.

CO: Then there’s Sam [Kamanguza, who plays Serge]. A very cool character indeed. Ice-cold. My complete opposite on the stage. I’m all nerves, jangling around, barely able to stand still, and Sam will just stand opposite me and toss out his lines, like someone out of an old cowboy movie. Maybe inside he is all jittery and faking it, but I don’t think so. Funny too – has some great stories about guys in urinals standing next to him to, erm, check him out. Wonder how controlled he is then.  

BJC: Have you paid much attention to the recent Art revival in London?

CO: I saw the three ‘actors’ give an interview on Youtube. One of them was talking about what a great job he had done with his lines, and I remember thinking, ‘the smug git’ – only because I have had such a struggle with learning mine, obviously.

GJA: A couple of my colleagues had the pleasure of seeing it recently. They had nothing but praise for it. If we can deliver anything even near to what they are sharing on the east end, I would consider our production a success.

What particular relevance (if any) will Art hold for a Beijing audience?

CO: These days, China is famed for people paying millions of dollars on art of very questionable value. The play certainly taps into that. There’s also a lot of stuff about the getting rid of the old, to replace it with stuff that is ‘modern’, for no real reason other that the sake of it. I know Beijingers will be able to understand that.

For me the play is really about three blokes arguing to the death over something (seemingly trivial), simply because they have known each other for so long that they can. I think people can relate to that anywhere…

(L-R) Sam Kamanguza, Carlos Ottery and Gregory Joseph Allen play Serge, Yvan and Marc

BJC: What difficulties did you face mounting the play in China? Did you at any point find yourself wishing to punch a nearby wall?

CO: Getting ‘official approval was a problem… our producer was able to pull some strings with the relevant departments at the last minute and rush things through. Fortunately, three blokes losing their shit over a painting isn’t deemed a sensitive issue.

GJA: Producing a play anywhere usually produces a few “wall punch” worthy moments, but our process has been relatively stress free… I wouldn’t be surprised if we sent a few walls to the emergency room before it is all said and done.

CO: It’s put me off producing for life. When it is all over, am gonna switch off my phone, and spend a week in my bed doing nothing but drinking cider, and eating sandwiches. Whilst theatre is a mild passion, what I really like to do is make sandwiches. Recently, I have been experimenting with homemade shish kebabs. I get some lamb skewers from a local Xingjiang place, make my own chilli sauce, throw it in a tortilla from the supermarket: Less stressful than theatre production. And cheaper

A homemade kebab, courtesy of Carlos

ART runs from May 11-13, 7.30-9pm/ May 14, 2.30-4pm (100 RMB/ Students 70 RMB) at Penghao Theatre. Photo credits: Sophia Wong

Brad Little and Claire Lyon, the two pointing foreigners, are in Shanghai to promote Phantom of the Opera, which is coming to Shanghai Culture Square in December and January. The two play the Phantom and Christine Daaé.

That picture, via Shanghai Daily, doesn’t make the most convincing sell for the show. Then again, who needs good photo-ops when you have videos like this:

The Phantom there, of course, is Ramin Karimloo, singing down the chandelier just before the Entr’acte during a special 25th anniversary performance in London.

Be on the lookout for tickets, Shanghai people. This will be so much better than Metallica.*

*Maybe not

On Friday, the opening night of Cirque du Soleil’s three-night performance of Michael Jackson: The Immortal World Tour in Beijing, a highly sensitive image was displayed on the giant big-screens above the stage in Wukesong MasterCard Arena: the Tiananmen Tank Man. As first reported by a local magazine, then excerpted by Shanghaiist:

This was not some politically-sensitive rock concert, but the opening night of Cirque du Soleil’s Michael Jackson ‘The Immortal’ world tour, where during the climax of the track “They Don’t Care About Us” the image appeared momentarily for a total of about four seconds within a montage sequence of civil-rights style protest movements, resulting in an audible collective gasp from the audience.

The image, although recognized throughout the world, has been almost completely erased inside of China, where any mention of the events surrounding the protests remain strictly forbidden. The response of the audience (or at least those sat around us) suggests, however, that the image is still recognized, even when taken out of context.

So what happened?

Laura Silverman, publicist for the Michael Jackson world tour, emailed us this statement:

Cirque du Soleil has abided by all the rules that were required by the Chinese Ministry of Culture including submitting the full show for approval. The show that is being presented here in China is the same show that has been touring the world for almost 2 years.

So, the Ministry of Culture knew. Or… “knew.” Someone in that office obviously didn’t pay very close attention to what was submitted. Maybe the chap just wasn’t a Michael Jackson fan. Maybe he was too riveted by a game of Glorious Mission Online.

Asked for clarification, Silverman replied:

Yes the show in its entirety was submitted for approval. The image is no longer in the show.

I think what we have here is a pretty fascinating glimpse into how big shows are screened in a politically sensitive environment such as China: by humans, who are fallible.

If the Ministry of Culture got in touch with Cirque du Soleil after this incident — to this question, Silverman offered no reply — we surmise the conversation was brief but polite, with a firm demand. The image is no longer in the show. And the show went on.

Michael Jackson: The Immortal World Tour played in Beijing on Saturday and Sunday. We’ve been in touch with four people who were present, and none of them sensed anything was amiss. The Tank Man image, indeed, was not seen.

(Top image via SCMP) The show’s next stops: Shanghai, August 16-18; Hong Kong, August 22-25.

The 2013 Beijing Improv Comedy Festival is taking place right now. Here’s what you need to know and what you don’t about this premier comedy event:

Who? Improv troupes from all over the world, including the Philippines, Australia, and comedy hotbed Turkey, as well as throughout China. But does it really matter? All you care about is whether or not they are funny.

When and Where? It’s happening right now, at the Penghao Theater, until April 21. It began April 10. Go to Beijing Improv’s website for the schedule.

How was improv invented? Commedia dell’Arte is a form of theater characterized by masked “types,” beginning in Italy in the 16th century, and was responsible for the advent of the actress and improvised performances based on sketches or scenarios. But remember, no one likes a trivia nerd.

Now onto the “what you need to know” part.

Is the festival worth going to? Will Ferrel, Amy Poehler, Ryan Stiles, Andy Kaufmann, and Kristen Wiig are just a few examples of improvisors who will not be at the festival. But those people are totally over-played, and some of them are dead. Instead, you’ll get to enjoy living comedians who really care about making sure the audience has a good time, not just when their next movie deal is going to come through.

Which shows are can’t-miss? You’ll definitely want to check out the stand-up showcase on Friday night at 10, as well as the Mix and Match all star improv show on Sunday night at 6. The Manila-based group SPIT is also can’t-miss, but they performed last Saturday, so it looks like you’ve already missed it.

Is it easy to pick up the performers? Yes! Every one of the performers is single. In fact, the whole reason they got into comedy is because they wanted to make it easier to meet people. Please go up to them after the show and make your intentions known.

Will I get to participate in the shows? Yes! Improv is all about audience participation. Pro Tip: When they ask for suggestions, please don’t yell out “dildo.” Everyone yells out dildo. Instead, yell “double-sided dildo.” They’ve probably never heard that one before.

The Good Doctor is a writer in Beijing. Check out his website, The Chaos Factory, and follow him on Twitter @doctorentropy2. He previously reviewed Caochangdi’s Beijing Design Week.

You know what’s equally impressive as a Peking Opera adaptation of Les Mis? This South Korean adaptation by the ROK Air Force. It’s been on the Internet for a little over two weeks now and has more than 4 million views, so there’s a good chance you’ve already seen it. Just in case you haven’t though, please watch.

Also check out LinkAsia’s news story about this, featuring an interview with the director. Russell Crowe, who starred in the recent movie version of Les Mis, gave the South Korean version a thumbs up, apparently. The film cost only $900.

Tom Hooper’s adaptation is getting all the press — it’s Oscar season, after all, and Les Misérables is up for Best Picture — but years before, there was another, one might say bolder, attempt to adapt this musical classic.

In 2006, students at the National Academy of Chinese Theater Arts actually wrote a Peking Opera version of Les Mis, which you can watch in its entirety on Youku (split into two parts, both embedded here). The video was posted three years ago, but Tea Leaf Nation flagged it just now, and since Les Mis is fresh on our minds, what better time to revisit this masterpiece?

I’ve tried my best to compare the plots of the Chinese and English versions, and highlighted points of interest — possible corresponding songs, bits of dialogue, etc. It’s fascinating to see where the Chinese writers hewed to the original and where they felt the need to take liberties.

All time markers correspond with the Youku vids. Oh, and spoiler alert.

4:05: First voices. Curtains part half a minute later. Thus begins the story of Prisoner 24601, with Javert in the spotlight keeping dutiful watch.

21:30: The monk buys Jean Valjean’s soul for God and sets him on his way “forward.” (As in the original, a candelabra is presented.)

22:30: Year 1823, Jean Valjean is nothing now, another story has begun.

The musical numbers “At the End of the Day” and “Lovely Ladies” have been conflated, it seems. Fantine selling her body is depicted by a man forcing her to drink wine against her will at the 24:50 mark. Afterwards she tugs on the man’s leg and says, “Sir, you haven’t paid yet!” At which point he beats her until Inspector Jalvert intervenes. Jean Valjean, disguised as the mayor, makes his entrance as well.

29:45: The Peking Opera version of “I Dreamed a Dream” happens here, I think, in which Fantine laments her lost “home.” Although this could also be “Come to Me,” culminating in her death at 36:10.

Immediately afterwards, a call of “Danger!” “Someone is stuck under a wagon,” Valjean is informed.

“Let me see,” he declares. And with Javert watching, Valjean uses his supernatural strength to move the wagon and save the man.

“It. Is. Him,” exclaims Javert.

40:30: Valjean meets Cosette in the woods. Soon after, we encounter the Thenardiers (Master and Madam of the House), and find out that Cosette has lost the money they gave her to buy bread. (For those who don’t know, Cosette loses no money in the original.)

Eventually, Valjean buys the girl her freedom, and he is happy.

Valjean gets a long solo in which he perhaps sings (just guessing here) “Who Am I?”

60:15: Cosette breaks down in tears as her father tries to tiptoe out (to turn himself in?). “Baaabaaa,” she screeches. The following scene in which she sobs into his arms is the worst part of the performance.

61:33: It’s now 1832, 10 years later. Valjean seems to have escaped from Javert with Cosette.

As the lights come up, there’s a maiden’s dance, and then we see, at 62:20, Marius and the start of the Barricade. He gives an impassioned, patriotic speech set to the tune Ode to the Motherland, and the audience loves it (they actually applaud.) Marius comes down at Cosette’s (annoyingly shrill) beck and proclaims eternal love to her, but she storms off, upset that he is intent on going to the Barricade.

65:17: Cosette does that high-pitched “Baaaabaaaa” thing again. “Will he come back alive?” she asks, referring to Marius, the boy with whom she’s fallen in love at first sight.

“God will protect him,” Valjean answers.

72:35: At the Barricade, Javert has been captured, but Valjean cuts him free. At 73:56, Valjean says where Javert will be able to find him. He shoots his gun into the air, and Javert takes his leave.

Immediately afterwards, the battle happens in darkness. When the lights return, everyone is basically dead. Marius is shot while a woman, possibly Éponine, dies in his arms. Valjean takes the stage and tells the audience by way of exclamation that they’re in the sewers.

The two men flip their way through the sewers. Shadowy men walk about. Valjean, with an unconscious Marius on his back, then perhaps sings “Bring Him Home.” (Or not — I’d like to think they didn’t cut this song, though.)

Part 1 ends with Thenardier trying to blackmail Valjean in the sewers.

Part 2, 1:20: Wedding Chorale. Cosette, in her white wedding gown, tells her father that she and Marius will give him a home in his old age. At 8:45, Valjean reveals his secret to Marius and makes him promise to not tell Cosette.

9:18: Valjean gives a speech, accompanied by strings. He sings a song, we’re not sure which. The wedding happens.

15:45: Javert takes the stage (the chronology is completely messed up now), saying the law prevents him from allowing Valjean to go free. Valjean bows to Javert and begs for more time, saying he will not flee this time.

16:18: “Baba” again from Cosette. Valjean shouts her name but, in darkness, can’t find her. He kneels, as if dying, and wails, “My child.” He sobs.

Javert, alone in the spotlight, sings his final note. Applause as darkness falls. (It’s not his suicide scene; perhaps he performs “Stars.”)

20:03: Alone on stage, Marius sings something. I wonder if it’s “Empty Chairs at Empty Tables.”

(I fast-forwarded through Cosette’s part with Valjean, because otherwise I might have to take back the previous statement about “worst scene.”) At about 22:30, ghostly ladies walk across stage. Valjean is left alone. Again, at 22:03, “Baaabaaa” rings out from Cosette (who I’m beginning to hate, if you haven’t noticed). Apparently he hasn’t gone to see her in 10 days, so she decides to be a bitch and whine about it. “Have you forgotten your daughter?” she asks.

“But I’ve come, haven’t I?” he says.

Really bad acting ensues as he asks whether Marius treats her well. It seems like the writers here are dragging this out for the sake of making it two hours.

Just past the 30-minute mark, Valjean and Javert again share the stage. At the 36-minute mark, an ailing, dying Valjean begs Javert to slap the handcuffs on him, but Javert refuses. This is the emotional climax of this production. Javert again does a solo. At 41:30, he ascends stairs, the spotlight fixed on him. (Of course a Chinese production would build to a dramatic suicide.) He slowly mounts a stage, throws up an elbow, and as the lights dim, makes a movement as if to jump. We hear the crashing of cymbals while a voice off-screen shouts, “Someone’s jumped in the river!” Valjean cries, “It’s him, it’s him!” and falls to his knees with grief. Again, Cosette bays “Baabaaa, baaabaaa.” Marius is by his side as well.

Valjean performs “Finale.” The candelabra is brought back on stage. Others join. At 53:55, the final note is sung, and applause rings out (some audience members stand). The chorus returns to do a song and dance, and the main characters appear to take their bow.

Did you know the musical Cats has a Mandarin version, and is currently in Beijing? It debuted in Shanghai in August before swinging by Guangzhou and Chongqing, and 100 shows later, is now playing at Century Theater in this city.

Century Theater’s website is terribly shitty, but a representative there told me that the show’s Beijing debut was December 21, and the next performance is this Sunday. You won’t find it listed on the terribly shitty website though, and calling the ticket office at 6468 6708 apparently doesn’t work either, so you’ll have to buy tickets at Century Theater’s window, which is open during normal business hours.

To think of it… a world-class musical like Cats really deserves better than this treatment. I mean, THIS…

…should at least get a small banner ad on the website of the theater where it is currently playing, don’t you think?

Also, this is terrible:

Performances will run until February 3, according to CCTV News (you can watch a short clip of the Chinese version of “Memory” via that link).

If you prefer to appreciate Cats from the comfort of home, the entire musical, starring Elaine Paige and the original London cast, can be watched on Youku.

And here’s “Memory” on Youku, with Chinese lyrics:

We visit the folks at Beijing Improv, where you should always expect the unexpected.

Notes: Beijing Improv holds free, bilingual workshops every Wednesday night at the Hot Cat Club, as well as a theater show on the last Saturday of every month. You can find out more information here.

Previously: Climbing the Waterfall. |Beijing Slice Archives|