The Inheritance

The Warburton Studio Theatre at the Corn Exchange in Wallingford might seem to be a surprising venue for the English Premiere of “one of the defining theatrical works of modern Brazil”, but an understanding of how this production came into being prompts the questions “Where else?” and “Where better?”  Len Pannett, a member of the Sinodun Players, was raised in Brazil, and he understands the central role of storytelling in their national psyche.  This is particularly evident in the daily televisual melodramas known as novelas, and it was through this medium that Miguel Falabella rose to prominence.  After making his name on screen, he turned his attention to writing for the stage, and his breakthrough came with A Partilha.  And this is the work that Len has translated and adapted for the English stage as “The Inheritance”, an examination of the relationships between four sisters on the death of their mother.

I am not familiar with Falabella’s original work, but I can say that Len’s adaptation doesn’t sound like a translation: the dialogue feels very natural with none of the awkwardness that can arise if phrases or idioms are dealt with too literally.  That’s critically important here, as the narrative drive is provided almost entirely by the conversations between the four women.  The adaptation ebbs and flows in its examination of the women’s interpersonal relationships: suspicions born out of long separation are overcome through shared recollections; acceptance and understanding are threatened by old grudges and new revelations.  But universal shared experience ultimately bonds the women together, just as it maintains the connection between the cast and the audience.

Ultimately the play stands or falls on the characterisation, and Len, taking on the role of director for the first time, coaxed some excellent performances from the cast.  The actors knew their lines thoroughly, and for the most part cues were hit sharply so that the dialogue sounded authentic; only very occasionally was the natural rhythm of conversation lost.  There was also pleasing dynamic variation to the spoken exchanges, so that revelations and reflections were properly recognised through changes in tempo.  The actors recognised that there is no need to project in a space this small, but good enunciation ensured that every line came across clearly.  Particularly impressive was the way in which the dialogue was allowed to flow: this wasn’t a staccato recitation of lines, but a stream of conversations eased along by infectious, easy laughter and inconsequential interjections.

The blocking was effective, with particularly good use made of the sofa centre-stage in the apartment, which allowed characters upstage to give private expression to their emotions.  Extravagant gestures were generally and properly confined to angry outbursts, as even the tiniest change in expression has power in such a small space.   There were many occasions when folded arms or an insouciant shrug betrayed a character’s opinion, or when a sharp glance, an arched eyebrow or a downturned mouth told us everything about how one of the sisters was feeling.  Good use was also made of physical interactions – a consoling arm here, a slight touch there – and these continually reinforced the bonds between the women; the actors were also adept at listening, keeping relatively still and maintaining a tight focus on their interlocutor.

The evening was beautifully framed by short sequences of monologues, performed without properties, with each of the four sisters standing in their own pool of light.  In this way we learnt something about each of them before they gathered together in the chapel to mourn their mother, and the narrative was rounded off in the closing monologues.  The device typified how well the play was structured and performed, and the onstage chemistry between the four actors was deeply impressive.  The Sinodun Players, and Len Pannett in particular, should feel justifiably proud of bringing this Brazilian gem to the English stage.

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