Michael Frayn’s play “Skios,” is better
than the novel.
However, the later was longlisted
for the Man Booker prize while the former hasn’t been written. (Yet, to my
knowledge.)
Frayn, whose laugh-a-minute play “Noises
Off” has been produced over and over by countless professional and community
theaters, is an established master of theatrical farce. Deservingly so. "Noises Off" is so well written it seems it would be hard to screw it up.
In Skios he attempts to skewer the
globe-trotting speaker circuit and extravagant foundation conferences of 21st
century life the way he poked fun at theater companies and their backstage blunders during the
production of an imaginary play called “Nothing On” in “Noises Off.” And while he comically
nails the pretentiousness of hoity-toits at the pinnacle of “civilization,” I wondered why I felt only mildly amused, mildly
bored as I turned page after page of this short novel.
Perhaps it’s the people.
The embodied stereotypes of stage are
fuller; stereotypes on the page seem so thin they almost topple over.
Gathered for the foundation’s
annual Fred Toppler lecture, those people include a range of one-dimensional
characters from the semi-wealthy to embedded intellectuals and a token poet, to
the silent Russian grand dame. But the
focus is on two types: the pudgy, aging, bland academic, Dr. Norman Wilfred, who
has been invited to deliver his lecture on Scientometrics, and imposter,
playboy, cad, Oliver Fox.
Of
course both play against several female types. Chief among them is the organizer of yearly
foundation house party, personal assistant, neat, nice, Nikki --so collected
she looks like she belongs in a deodorant commercial. When she gets to the
airport fantasy gets the better of her and she hopefully greets the rakishly good-looking
Oliver Fox as Dr. Wilfred. Fox, opportunistic flim-flam man that he is, goes
along for the adventure. He’s arrived
early to the island for a tryst with a woman he met in a bar as a substitute
for one who had rented the villa for them both, and then changed her plans.
An adventure it is. Two Greek taxi drivers, brothers Stavros and
Spiros, whose limited English helps propel the plot, crisscross characters and
luggage to opposite ends of the island. The whole turns on coincidence and
mistaken identity; sexual tryst possibilities; jockeying for advancement; parallel,
juxtaposed scenes; missed communications and miscommunications; and a shell
game of passports and luggage.
Nevertheless, the jokes often fall
flat. (Example: Yes, the second coming was at hand. Eric could sense it. Christian would come and he would be terrible.) Hah.....
Perhaps it’s the pace. Instead of
the rat-a-tat tat repartee of dialogue, much of the humor often occurs in
description slowing down the action, rather than speeding it up to rollicking,
the way it might be if delivered by actors.
My mild response is not due to the intricately,
carefully choreographed plot. Each
element balances on another in a complex house of cards, often just movements
and moments away from potential collapse. Dramatic tension builds as the
lecture looms. Dr. Wilfred’s there to speak on “Innovation and Governance: The
Promise of Scientometrics.” Can Fox fake it through the presentation the way he
fakes it through all that comes before – casual conversation, question and
answer period and dinner? Then another layer gets added: philanthropy may be a
cover for something more nefarious. The Fred Toppler lecture offers a crescendo
surprise worthy of epic farce. An ending
I would love to see on screen.
Screen, again. Perhaps, no
certainly, the problem is genre.
I read distractedly, constantly imagining the play, the movie. I want to hear the characters, see the sets.
Why, I ask repeatedly, did Frayn
write this as a novel?
Perhaps, there are too many
characters for the modern stage – only
amateurs could afford such a huge cast and even they might have trouble.
Maybe a movie?
Perhaps Frayn planned all along to write
a screenplay based on the novel’s reception.
Many years ago I had the chance to
attend a lecture in which the keynote speaker, a well-known theater critic, joked
about a conversation he had with academics about Shakespeare. One said it was a
pity Shakespeare didn’t write novels. Oh how they missed the point of plays!
I think of the difference now. Some of it’s in the timing. Reading, though
progressive like a play, allows you to go back and savor, to sink in; a play
unfolds in space and time at it’s own pace taking you with it – or not. Frayn is
so good at creating side-splitting farce, the kind it’s nearly impossible to
withstand – unless you’re the one in control of turning the pages.
While I won’t recommend this book to
friends and family, I’ll go see the movie with them.
When it
comes out.
I didn't care for this much either. Farce is so difficult to pull off on the page - it really needs the visual element to make it work. Skios was too full of the predictable for me (mistaken identity, foreigners who all look the same, impossibility of making oneself understood in a foreign language). I could see the film working though - even then I don't think its one I would particularly rush out to watch.
ReplyDeleteKaren @bookertalk
Karen,
ReplyDeleteOn second thought I might not go see this movie either. When I started writing, I said play, but there are too many characters, too many scenes for a play. So I changed to screenplay/movie. But a movie flows and doesn't offer the punctuation and punch that a play does with scene changes and ends of acts. This farce needs that kind of quick shifting. The book now strikes me as being in the wrong form -- but also just kind of a mess if it were to change.
I love the way you praise a future, unwritten version of this, even as you disparage some of the elements that don't work in the novel.
ReplyDeleteWell, yes I was thinking that Noises Off has an imaginary play called Nothing On, so why not write about an imaginary movie?
ReplyDelete