By Jennifer Beasley.
An outstanding adaptation of Lao She’s famous novel, Four Generations In One House is a play of epic proportions, with an outstanding cast and brilliant direction.
NB: Spoken in Putonghua with Chinese and English Surtitles.
Lao She’s brilliant novel, Four Generations In One House, which was translated from Chinese into English in 1951 and became a massive hit in America (renamed The Yellow Storm), is a family saga set in Beijing under Japanese occupation, that spans the turbulent Second Sino-Japanese War from 1937 – 1945.
Utilising this war as a backdrop, the central theme is the gradual unravelling of the traditional Chinese four generational family, symbolised by the Qi Family. Here the gentle Confucius teachings of filial piety, family harmony and roles and responsibilities, headed by patriarch Master Qi as he plans for the day in seven years when he is eighty and has fulfilled his spiritual obligations, are the keystone upon which this drama, with tragic overtones, sits.
Adjacent to this central theme, are two other families; The Quin Family, representing the arts and dignity, they are the objectors to the Japanese invasion. Then there are the untrustworthy Guan Family, who use the occupation to their own advantage, as a scheming Guan Xiaohe, acted with relish by Wu Bi, and his calculating wife Bachibao, a powerful performance by Qin Hailu, betray the Quin Family to devastating effect.
Setting this piece in the micro suburb of Little Sheep Fold Hutong, the playwrights Tian Qinxin and An Ying (Green Snake) have engineered a gripping adaptation of a sweeping narrative that centres the human plight under calamities, evoking both humour and sadness in its telling.
Tian Qinxin, once again, proves that she is the definitive director. Nothing is out of reach for her directional style, often fusing Western and traditional Chinese elements, her eye and ear for spatial awareness is extraordinary. Almost Chekhov in its presentation, with realism, side comments, intermingling fast action then slowing the pace just where it needs to be, I felt the three hours fly by, awed by her talent and ability to fuse a cast of thirty-four into a singular unit.
Then there is the incredible set. Humble, ordinary, the three sides of the stage mimic dwellings of the era. Set on castor wheels for ease of relocation, Xue Dianjie and Wang Hanyi know how to utilise every inch of set for impactful effect. The classic backdrop of broad stroke black paint on white canvas for the distance reflects the skilful lighting stimulating season changes of snow, rain and sun as designed by Wang Ruiguo and a respectful score by composer Zhang Wei transport the nearly three thousand people who packed the Palais Theatre on the night I attended. Now, this is no mean feat. Every person was held in thrall to this amazing story, and such is the strength of the actors, crew, producers and director of the National Theatre of China, that this play carried you back into time and made you care.
And remember, this is spoken entirely in Putonghua, or standard Mandarin, with surtitles translating the language. Not that it mattered to my companion and myself. The gifted actors easily carried the story, with a brilliant touch to score Tian Yu (The Bravest) as The Narrator, whose charisma on stage got many of the ladies in the audience sighing, much to my amusement!
I loved that Qinxin was able to balance the play with the feminine stories adding their own quiet counterbalance, such as the compliant yet determined Yunmei acted so well by Zhao Rui, the hysterical actions of over-the-top Pangjuzi, a brilliantly comic turn by Tao Hong, as she declares she will leave her dill of a husband, Qi Ruifeng, a marvellous performance by a skittish Liu Zhe, and then the scheming, Machiavellian Dachibao, well-crafted acting here by Qin Hailu, with a fabulous character arc as she descends into moral ineptitude and self-described She-Wolf.
With so many standout actors it’s difficult to recount all their names here but I found the grounding and almost Buddha-like effect of Ma Ang as the poet Qian Moyin lyrical and enchanting, as you are then sucker punched with his betrayal by Guan Xiaohe which results in him stripped of his home, and then when Quin returns, tortured beyond recognition by the Japanese, many of the audience wept.
Small comedic moments break up the tragedy as the three acts; Bewilderment, Ignoble Survival and Famine – steamroll into the final unravelling of the four generational family unit, and the true face of the Japanese Army is shown. However, not all the Japanese invaders are portrayed as evil. With nuances in words and subtle actions, a small moment where the elderly Japanese woman, Zeng Qi, honours Quin Moyin when he returns from prison and gives him back his house shows that not all the Japanese were hateful. Even at the end, when the Great-Grandfather acted by Zhang Lu recognises that his vision is not sustainable and thus completing his narrative arc, the tender love between Qi Ruixuan, performed with restraint and dignity by Xu Wei to his wife Yunmei, is perfectly shown with the husband gently cupping his wife’s head to his chest, just for a heartbeat, and then lending his strength to her, willing Yunmei to endure, to stay present for him. Beautiful.
The use of rickshaws, at one time there are five on stage, allows energy to flow and the sub-story of Mr. Cui as the Rickshaw boy, a passionate turn by Wu Zhexuan, whose frustrations flow out onto his wife acted by Xuan Yi as the conditions worsen under occupation and the Japanese put a tragic end to many lives, including the ‘second wife’ of Guan, You Tongfang, a spirited Chen Yunuo, at a peaceful rally. Parallels to the outer world are mentioned with Germany bombing Europe placing the horrors that the families, ordinary, decent families (except for the sneaky Guan Family) are suffered globally, and that even today, the effects of war and occupation pressure cook the morals of everyone as they fight to survive.
Truly a wonderful experience. The epic scale and time frame recalled the visual grandeur of Ben-Hur, especially the rickshaw scene, as this sweeping narrative of an ordinary family are forever shattered by outside events that alter the course of China’s history. A marvellous production that deserves multitude praises.
Many thanks to Sally Chen from Eneworld for the opportunity to critique this production.
