Franz Kafka’s The Hunger Artist – Etcetera Theatre
Mesmeric, painfully expressive, and disturbingly comforting, Jonathan Sidgwick brings Kafka’s final work to life. Caged, centre stage, we find a man who revives himself to tell the tragic tale of the Hunger Artist, a man who devoted his life to his craft, to fasting. We see the hunger artist’s plight at the hands of a disinterested audience, (but also due to his own fixation), as he is forced to downgrade from a solo-travelling act that brought in masses to a sad, sideshow act that viewers see as a hindrance.
With outstretched fingers and ever-widening eyes, blooming with the peculiar expression of the tormented hunger artist, you could feel his hunger for express and his appetite for reward, and release. He performed and flaunted the body with a garish voyeur which gave way to moments where it crumpled with disappointment, anguish, and despair.
Despite a desperation about his character, there was an exclusivity, a specialness he afforded to his audience, who lay outside the realms of the people he scorned. This made me, as an audience member feel like a child, innocent and curious, as he described them. Sidgwick’s talent shows here, as he crafts not only the hunger artist’s layered character but the compassionate role of the audience.
Something inherent in a lot of Kafka’s work is degradation and shame pressed upon an individual by their outer world. Here, we see the proud artist, full of conviction and artistic devotion to his work. For an obsessive artist to not have any self-doubt about the nature of his work, the character should be farcical and unbelievable. Yet, Sidgwick’s version is imbued with an intense magical realism, and absurdity, of course, so that we too, are immersed in this world where we invest and believe in the hunger artist and his vocation.
Sidgwick’s physicality is beautiful – exhaustion shifts to wiry ecstasy and desperation in the blink of an eye, with the flare of an artist, and the decrepit hunch of a beaten-down man. Animated and cartoonish, it lends itself to a world of magical realism – there is clear Berkoffian influence here. His vocal performance is equally impressive in its nuance and dynamism, eliciting the suspense of a gothic horror.
The composition and sound designed by Mark Glentworth evoked a circus-like world that ridiculed and dramatised his suffering, creating a real sense of loneliness.
The story will always be extremely relevant. On the surface level, there is the parallel with the instability of so many professions, especially those where success is dictated by the consumer/market. On a fundamental level, it speaks to anguish and longing to feed something insatiable, and to those who feel misunderstood. The fact that this is a solo-show makes it all the more impressive and the evocative performance made the final line so tragic and cathartic.
Reviewer: Riana Howarth
Reviewed: 9th June 2024
North West End UK Rating: