Review: Don Quixote

How mad is too mad?


Mattia Mariotti’s adaptation of Don Quixote was always going to be a little bit mad. It was a two-hour theatrical free-for-all; I laughed, I cried (with laughter), I had absolutely no idea what was going on. But it was wonderful, in its own utterly insane way.

The anchor of the show was Dominic Kimberlin, in the titular role of Don Quixote de la Mancha, an old man gone mad with his desire to go on one last grand adventure. It is testament to his unwavering commitment to the role that at no point did I lose belief in what he saw on these adventures; he played both the comedy and the underlying senility of his character perfectly. His trusty, dozy sidekick Sancho Panza also merits praise; it marked Collin Looh’s debut performance in St Andrews, but his command of physicality and expressiveness suggested a more experienced actor. Disappointingly, his intentionally squeaky and grating voice became irritating before the first act had even finished, and it meant a lot of his jokes, and even simple plot exposition, was rendered unintelligible.

A standout minor role was that of The Puppet Master (Shaun Tan), who opened the second act with a mischievously comical puppet show that seamlessly played off of the audience’s reactions. As with Collin Looh, it became evident that Mariotti had a clear vision of how to bring out the comedic flair in his actors. If Tan stole the show in Act Two, then the credit for Act One goes to Peter Von Zahnd as Don Quixote’s discontented and apathetic horse (complete with fluffy pink flashing ears). From the moment he introduced himself with “Bonjour, I am a French existentialist,” he remained in complete control of the comedic nuances of his character, developing it far beyond that of Don Quixote’s disgruntled steed.

The acting among the principles remained generally convincing, but in many of the minor roles a sense of presence was lost. Audibility, as with all shows in Venue 1, became a problem with actors who were clearly unfamiliar with the stage, which in turn lead to confusion with an already perplexing plot. The first half relied on its unrelenting comedy, but the second half dragged in comparison. A lengthy scene in which Sancho Panza is made a Governor left me disinterested, partly because of the previously mentioned issues with Looh’s voice and partly because the play seemed to give up trying to make sense. I enjoyed the first half for its absurdity, but by the second I wanted a serious plot, and I couldn’t find one amidst the delirium and the leeks being thrown around the stage.

Some technical issues also hampered the production, namely distractingly noisy wings and unintelligible and jarring audio from the speakers. The lighting also felt lacking; actors upstage were often left completely in shadow, and not in a commendably artistic way.

Don Quixote never took itself seriously, and its sheer commitment to irrationality was enjoyable. Miraculously, somewhere in between the fluffy unicorn and Ku Klux Klan windmills, I grew to sympathise with Don Quixote. The play had heart – granted, it was covered in glitter and singing the Pokemon theme tune – but it was there. I don’t know how Marriotti did it, but for all the side-splitting laughter Don Quixote’s oddly poignant final scene resonated. I only wish it hadn’t gone quite so far with the absurdity – after all, the play seemed to have something to say about madness and lost youth, I just wish when I left I knew what exactly it might have been.

And we never did get an explanation for the dead flamingo.