At Joaquim Costa street number 68 is the Teatre Goya, a venue halfway between El Raval and the center of Barcelona. Two seemingly opposing areas that represent different ways of living and understanding life, but that converge in the same space dedicated to the art of interpretation. In Eva Contra Eva something similar happens. Two women with no apparent connection face each other to survive in an increasingly competitive world ---that of theater---, almost without realizing that, in it, there is plenty of room for both. Pau Miró, the playwright who signs the work, says that theater serves to "talk about life." Putting the generational war between women on the table is talking about gender, current affairs, postmodernity. And, ultimately, about life. And that, is already a success.
The director of the piece, Sílvia Munt, asks in the program notes "what is true and what is premeditated and perhaps morbid social staging in this announced generational war?". And this makes me think of all the times I have heard throughout my life the phrase A woman's worst enemy is another woman. Believe me when I tell you that I shudder every time. It terrifies me to think that someone really thinks it. But, even so, when I set aside the initial stupefaction and reflect on why that person said it, I think that, deep down, they have a point. Reflect, those of you who are women: have you never encountered another woman, in a position superior to yours, who has treated you badly? or who has made you less than you are? Apart from people who, regardless of sex, are rude by nature, behind this situation lies a gender issue.
Thanks to the social and political advance of feminism, there is increasing talk of the glass ceiling, a concept that, as you know, is used to explain why so few women reach positions of power. The culprit of this situation is none other than patriarchy, the hegemonic system of governance in much of the world, in which men dominate practically all positions of responsibility in a society. Little by little we have managed to change this situation slightly, but significantly. And this has led to us seeing more and more women in decisive places. They, however, are still a minority. And that causes that, sometimes, when another woman reaches the same position, they feel threatened and act in a completely reprehensible way. But why does this happen? Because the system has taught them that they have to fight among themselves if they want to go far.
Pau Miró, the playwright who signs the work, says that theater serves to "talk about life." Putting the generational war between women on the table is talking about gender, about current affairs, about postmodernity. And, ultimately, about life. And that, is already a success.This is, for me, the underlying theme of Eve Against Eve. A consolidated and renowned actress ---played by Emma Vilarasau---, feels deeply intimidated when a younger one, eager to conquer the world ---played by Nausicaa Bonnín--- enters her life. The plot, a free interpretation of the acclaimed filmAll about Eveof Joseph L. Mankiewicz, varies a bit from the original. And it is thatif in 1950 it was "normal" for women to see each other as enemies, now, in the 21st century, what is in (or should be in) is sorority.
Pau Miró and Sílvia Munt bring to the stage a controversial, but necessary, debate that, as they themselves express, highlights the "imperfections" of our era. One of them, considering ourselves very advanced, while still dragging problems from another era. The piece is a cry to rebel. To say enough. Starting with ourselves.
In addition to Vilarasau and Bonnín (daughter, by the way, of the beloved Hermann Bonnín), a luxury cast is completed by Àlex Casanovas ---in the role of the play's director---, Andreu Benito ---who plays the critic---, and Míriam Alamany ---interpreting the representative---. As for acting, a special and necessary mention to Vilarasau and Casanovas, brilliant in their roles as expected. Benito also gives a good performance, in a character at times dark, but who lets himself be known towards the end of the play. Bonnín, whom I met as Sofia in the TV3 series Cites (one of my favorite CCMA productions), once again demonstrates her potential, although she doesn't quite explode. Alamany, for her part, is not convincing.
Eva contra Eva is a play that attracts attention, both for the theme it addresses and for the choice of actors. With these characteristics, it could be, for many, a safe bet. But the reality is that despite having all the numbers to do so, it does not stand out. It lacks rhythm. It becomes a bit long and, at times, monotonous. It doesn't take risks until the end. It is then that it surprises, breaks with what you expect, and the audience makes it known with a loud applause. It is at this moment that Vilarasau shows all her talent and dazzles the spectators, who mark the path to follow for future productions. Eva contra Eva wants to be transgressive, but only achieves it a few minutes before the end of the performance. It has the what, it's the how that fails it.
Pau Miró and Sílvia Munt bring to the stage a controversial debate, which as they themselves express highlights the "imperfections" of our era. One of them, considering ourselves very advanced, while still dragging problems from another eraI like, however, the play of light and shadow by David Bofarull, Ganecha Gil, and Jordi Thomàs, which gives a second and interesting narration to the work. I like the bet on screens that look like mirrors. A differential decision because they allow enjoying the function, full of nuances, from different points of view. I also like the construction of the story inflashbacks, which make you constantly wonder what could have happened.But what I like, above all, is that it makes you think.
From the Ronda de Sant Antoni I see the poster that presides over the facade of the Teatre Goya. In it, I observe Emma Vilarasau immersed in the role of Eva. A glamorous woman, with character, wearing an immaculate white dress while smoking a cigarette. An apparently uninhibited woman who hides her insecurities behind immense sunglasses. Eva says goodbye to me and shows me her fragility. The woman who in fiction did not want to reveal her age comes to life on the poster: her wrinkles have been disguised with an editing program in what seems like a kind of final provocation. I smile and go home.