REVIEW: Our furians in poetic timelessness

Seven years after the final production of director JA Pitínský from 2004, Our Furious returns to the stage of the historic building of the National Theater under the direction of Martin Františák. His choice for this title is logical on the part of the new management of the ND Drama Theater, because few people know as much about life in the village as Františák, as he has been proving for years with the productions of his plays and dramatizations, starting with the impressive author’s debut Doma.

Habršperk suggests that his production of Our Furious will also touch on the concept of home, who, upon arriving on stage, exclaims: “Bohemia!”, as if he was just returning from a trip around the world, of which he and his friend Bláha are so proud. The director Miroslav Macháček built his Furians in 1979 on the counterbalance of the small Czech stubbornness of the Furians, who never stuck their noses further than a few kilometers from their village, and the wider horizon given by their view of the world. And also on the importance of human honor and dignity sustainable under all conditions, even those normalizing at the time.

Františák’s Czech village takes place in a deliberate timelessness, given the costume variety from neutral black skirts, waistcoats and white shirts to colorfully stylized costumes to contemporary jackets, jackets and beanies. On an empty stage with bushes and a body of water in the background, the story of the choice of midnight and the authorship of the stick sign is played out with a lyrical musical background and a live band on stage, conveying a hint of the folkloric subtext of the carnival.

Františák’s production has its own poetic and comedic level, and in the second part, the accented motif of war reminds us of the legendary Burian War. It is a pleasant genre picture that reliably moves and entertains the audience without asking them disturbing questions, especially the basic one that is offered with every return of the Stroupežnický play, the question of the contemporary sources and form of furianism.

Here, fury is an innate given, transmitted from generation to generation, from children to adults, a morbid form of sullenness, which is the source of grateful comedy, only in the second plan does it indicate the unfortunate consequences of this affliction. Františák’s direction gives up the chance to bring a current intensity to the interpretation of furianism and remains only with its presentation, although this possibility would also be offered to a significantly young cast.

From the wide range of characters that occupy an equal position in this fresco, Martina Preissová impresses with her unique acting contribution to the character of Maria Dubská, František Němec delights with the meticulously constructed monologue of Grandfather Dubská in his precise verbal and acting expression, Councilor Koženy Vladislava Beneš is also a great little figure, irresistibly struggling with the text of the municipal law.

Valentin Bláha Radúz Máchy emphasizes the theme of human honor, as does Dubský mayor David Matáska. Ondřej Malé’s Habršperk is a slightly ironic glossator of events and an unobtrusive mover of the story, Ondřej Pavelka entertains the audience with a played comedy leading to a simplified interpretation of the character of the first councilor and poacher Bušek.

Our furiants will surely become a successful perennial in the repertoire of the first scene, however, they do not bring much new to the statement about the forms of furiantism in Bohemia.