The upcoming performance of Yasmina Reza's 1994 play Art by the Godot Theater Company has turned out to be something of a coup de theatre. Opening on Dec. 25 and originally scheduled for 16 performances in Taipei -- a long run by local standards. Tickets for the first seven performances are booked solid and only the most expensive remain for the rest.
Godot announced Tuesday that it would be returning for an additional six shows in Taipei in February after it has completed its countrywide tour. Tickets for these additional performances are also selling fast.
PHOTO: IAN BARTHOLOMEW, TAIPEI TIMES
Why the enthusiasm?
While Yasmina Reza has made something of a sensation in Europe and the US, she is a long way from theatrical greatness and while most reviews acknowledge her accessibility, they are also just a tad dismissive. A review in the British magazine The Spectator describes her as "intellectual theater lite."
While Art won the Moliere Award for Best Play, Best Production, and Best Author when it was first released, and has since proved popular in numerous translated productions, the real draw for Godot's production is that it features three of Taiwan's most distinguished comedians in a virtuoso peace of ensemble work.
The play has a cast of only three; but when these are Ku Bao-ming (
Each actor brings his own unique style to the show, and as director Liang Chih-ming (
The story is simple enough: Art is about the relationship between three friends, one who has bought an expensive modernist work. One of his friends despises him for this while the other tries to make peace between the two. What follows is a machine-gun battle of words, which is excruciatingly funning in its own right and is all the cleverer for the fact that most of the action is in the subtext. The modernist art work at the center of the debate serves merely as a catalyst for the three friends to assess their relationship -- hence the accusation of being "intellectual theater lite," for while it has pretensions to the high-brow, it is not rigorously intellectual.
While nobody will deny that Taiwan has theatrical talent, its perennial problem has been a lack of depth that tends to mar ambitious projects such as Ping-Fong's recent Wedding Memories, in which the stars absolutely overwhelm the rest of the cast. The small scale of the current production and the decision to cast three of the most highly sought after actors -- rather than letting one big name carry the publicity load for two lesser names -- has provided an opportunity to see some top-class action on stage.
“How China Threatens to Force Taiwan Into a Total Blackout” screamed a Wall Street Journal (WSJ) headline last week, yet another of the endless clickbait examples of the energy threat via blockade that doesn’t exist. Since the headline is recycled, I will recycle the rebuttal: once industrial power demand collapses (there’s a blockade so trade is gone, remember?) “a handful of shops and factories could run for months on coal and renewables, as Ko Yun-ling (柯昀伶) and Chao Chia-wei (趙家緯) pointed out in a piece at Taiwan Insight earlier this year.” Sadly, the existence of these facts will not stop the
Taiwan is one of the world’s greatest per-capita consumers of seafood. Whereas the average human is thought to eat around 20kg of seafood per year, each Taiwanese gets through 27kg to 35kg of ocean delicacies annually, depending on which source you find most credible. Given the ubiquity of dishes like oyster omelet (蚵仔煎) and milkfish soup (虱目魚湯), the higher estimate may well be correct. By global standards, let alone local consumption patterns, I’m not much of a seafood fan. It’s not just a matter of taste, although that’s part of it. What I’ve read about the environmental impact of the
It is jarring how differently Taiwan’s politics is portrayed in the international press compared to the local Chinese-language press. Viewed from abroad, Taiwan is seen as a geopolitical hotspot, or “The Most Dangerous Place on Earth,” as the Economist once blazoned across their cover. Meanwhile, tasked with facing down those existential threats, Taiwan’s leaders are dying their hair pink. These include former president Tsai Ing-wen (蔡英文), Vice President Hsiao Bi-khim (蕭美琴) and Kaohsiung Mayor Chen Chi-mai (陳其邁), among others. They are demonstrating what big fans they are of South Korean K-pop sensations Blackpink ahead of their concerts this weekend in Kaohsiung.
The captain of the giant Royal Navy battleship called his officers together to give them a first morsel of one of World War II’s most closely guarded secrets: Prepare yourselves, he said, for “an extremely important task.” “Speculations abound,” one of the officers wrote in his diary that day — June 2, 1944. “Some say a second front, some say we are to escort the Soviets, or doing something else around Iceland. No one is allowed ashore.” The secret was D-Day — the June 6, 1944, invasion of Nazi-occupied France with the world’s largest-ever sea, land and air armada. It punctured Adolf