A text in which the protagonist starts from an absolute nothingness to make a forward escape that also doesn't seem to have any way out. An actor without acting work, trying to survive in a world that doesn't remember him... an actor who wants to escape from himself.
Josep Julien's text is precise and meticulous. It moves from the actor's narration to interaction with the audience, a direct interpellation that makes spectators feel part of the story... because the next person the actor addresses could be any of us. We are all a possible additional actor in his story.
Santi Ricart gives an excellent interpretation of the text. His professionalism is evident in this monologue. We believe him so much that we can even come to think that he is, truly, the real protagonist of the story... or, perhaps, of a good part of the story... He lives it and makes us live it. There is good coordination between Santi Ricart's interpretation and Josep Julien's direction and dramaturgy.
The stage design, by Anna Tantull, makes us move between the real world and the theater. There is no dividing line. There are no limits. We never quite know which world we are in. Xavi Gardés' lighting completes this sensation. What the actor tells us... is it theater? Is it real?
An echo of Chekhov
La nit del peix kiwi, at Teatre Lliure, makes Chekhov resonate in our minds... the actor is also a man tormented by what he has, by what he wants, by what he does... a man surrounded by a diverse fauna of characters who make him spin like a top. A man who thinks he has taken the reins of his life and, a moment later, drowns in a sea of contradictions.
It is a good production to enjoy a very good text and a very good interpretation. And to leave the theater doubting everything... because we no longer know if what we have seen is theater, or perhaps what we see when we leave is theater.
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