With a förkrymt head of their respective ancestors, they stand there – Anna Wallander a little hippieaktiga mrs Montague and mrs Capulet in Jessica Liedbergs ampert modest countenance, and the hötter and threatening. Klanstrid – family against family, group against group.
now, When Linus Tunström enters the main stage at the capital’s city theatre as he is with their effective and hårdvinklade grip from their Uppsala-sets of Shakespeare, where Hamlet was a sort of Hells Angels-guy in a dystopian future, and King Lear, a mafia boss with bales of banknotes on the stage.
Here, in Julia Przedmojskas big stages with a lot of walls and closed spaces surrounded by a great darkness highlights the feud and feeding the intransigence of the tragic love story. Tunström has good hand with the actors; he sounds Åke Lundqvist play Amman, a skinny little skinntorr elderly lady, a stroke of luck that breaks the drama out of their cliches like Peter Gardiner dansante father Laurence or Robert Chestnut Tybalt in well-fitting suit. Tunström emphasizes the difference between the families, Romeo and his mates are fooling themselves dressed as waiters at the party of the neatly strict family Capulet.
So Daniel nyström’s partykille Romeo meets Gizem Erdogan’s hard-held familjeflicka Julia and love occur as the sparks fly about. And here is possibly the show’s weak point for it happens not really despite the fact that they get to roll during a illrosa sensual jätteboll – no as well Nyström as Erdogan, which is very good, it is also best when they are not together but live in the here young the obsession of unrequited love that causes them to crave and crawl on the floor and wanting to die, with the help of plastic bags.
But still, I like this so a total of oinsmickrande interpretation, with its cinematic soundtrack signed Foad Arbabi, which pumps the plot inexorably forward and which fit well with old Wills stark objectivity. For in the end, families are together, reconciled – certainly, for this time.