Theatre | Roberto Zucco

Elin Williams attended a performance by theatre company August 012 of Bernard-Marie Koltès’ play Roberto Zucco, directed by Mathilde Lopez.

Italian serial killer Roberto Succo was the inspiration for French playwright Bernard-Marie Koltès’ last play. Performed posthumously in Berlin in 1990, Koltès’ work was heavily influenced by the absurdists. Koltès apparently felt exiled from society as a homosexual, and many themes relating to this personal isolation are explored in his play Roberto Zucco. The play is essentially an insight into what it means to be ‘normal’ and questions whether all humans are underlying serial killers, susceptible to barbarism, waiting to strike: hiding beneath a sea of social norms. Translated by practitioner for ‘in-yer-face’ theatre Martin Crimp, Welsh company August 012 take on the extremely challenging script under the directorial guidance of Mathilde Lopez for their latest production.

There are many notable differences between the real life Succo and Koltès’ Zucco. Succo led a frantic life, stabbing his parents, escaping from a psychiatric hospital where he earned his degree, went on the run, was captured, attempted to escape again then finally committed suicide in his cell aged twenty-six. Not much of this is shown in the play, merely aspects of his personality used for the purpose of dramatising relevant themes. The exploration of ‘what makes someone different’ is a major theme, with the real life Succo used merely as a spring board. This, at times, can be frustrating as the character is under-developed and largely one dimensional. In order to potentially flesh out this character, the actor playing Succo needs to really consider what a psychopath looks like; the answer? Like anyone else.

London Police wasted time and effort arresting known lunatics and eccentrics in Victorian London during their search for the killer dubbed ‘Jack the Ripper’. The truth is that psychopaths look as normal as the rest of the population. Ted Bundy and Peter Sutcliffe went unnoticed for so long because they were indistinguishable from the crowd. Adam Redmore’s wide-eyed and zombie-like Zucco perhaps lacks the unsettling normality and charm that is a trait of the serial killer.

The ensemble cast was extremely tight; they switched from character to character with fluidity and ease. What was perhaps less endearing was the use of regional accents. This was unnecessary and caused a feeling of fragmentation. Bethan Mai gives a stand out performance, ranging from the innocent rape victim to the promiscuous wealthy woman. The use of choral singers is an interesting touch and helps punctuate scenes in this naturally confusing script.

Chapter’s studio was simply too long for this production. Audience members were forced to edge forward in their seats and crane their heads back to catch the action. An in-the round staging provided the intimacy needed for the production, but the runway-esque set-up detracted from that intimacy. Lopez’s decision to include audience participation also took away from this intimacy, and added a certain pantomimic feel to the show, with lyric sheets and scripts for audience members to participate.

The script does not provide the depth that the dramatisation of the life of a serial killer needs; the audience leaves not knowing much about the life of France, Switzerland and Italy’s Public Enemy number one. Despite the confines of the script, the unnecessary scenes could most certainly be lost and the exploration into Zucco’s character could be made more substantial. As a production it was too frantic and incoherent. Staging an absurdist play is always going to be a challenging prospect and this production failed to offer sufficient clarity considering the confused nature of the script.