Peter Brook and Marat/sade

It is noted in many books that near the start of his career, Peter Brook was attracted to both plays and techniques that expressed human contradiction. He often wondered, though, whether there were any modern playwrights who could possibly equal the richness and complexity of Shakespearean verse, and often complained about the improbability of ever finding material to work on or to produce as stimulating as that of Shakespeare. When, in 1964, Brook received a play entitled The Persecution and Assassination of Marat as Performed by the Inmates of the Asylum of Charenton under the Direction of the Marquis de Sade (Marat/Sade), by German playwright Peter Weiss, it is also noted that Brook felt he had finally encountered the challenge of Shakespearean theater he was looking for. Not only was Marat/Sade an incredibly well written and unique approach to theater as a whole, its incorporation of music and movement, song and montage, and naturalism and surrealism within the text created the perfect passage, for Brook, from his commercial past to his experimental present, as well as a way for both the playwright and the director to deal with the concept of theater as therapy; a rather ironic, yet at the same time clever, idea seeing as how the play itself is conducted within the confines of an asylum, with the inmates themselves as the stars. One of the most complex aspects of presenting Marat/Sade was its large and eclectic cast of characters and also its incorporation of a play within a play. On stage, these points were, looking at the opinions of a majority of both the audiences and the critics, presented successfully by Brook and the cast he worked with. From the prison guards who loomed in the background, clothed in butcher aprons and armed with clubs, to the half-naked Marat, slouched in a tub and covered in wet rags, forever scratching and writing, to the small group of singers, dressed and painted up as clowns, to the narcoleptic but murderous Charlotte Corday, Weiss and Brook offered a stage production that both engaged and amazed the audience, while at the same time forced them to question their role as the audience; no better exemplified than at the very end of the play, where the inmates, standing menacingly at the edge of the stage, actually begin to applaud the very people who applaud their performance, aggravating and confusing some, but forcing most to look at the conventions and routines of the theater which they themselves seem to be performing (Croyden 240). When Peter Brook decided to create a film version of Marat/Sade, there must have been a great deal of doubt as to whether or not such a feat was possible, for, as stated above, converting the play from the stage to the screen while still maintaining its richness and complexity of characters would surely take an enormous amount of creativity and ingenuity. Though the theater offered the challenge of presenting such a large production within the confines of a stage, one of the most essential aspects of the play, the relationship and interaction between the cast and the spectators, was very much intact. It was necessary for the audience to feel threatened, or at the very least, uneasy, by the action taking place in front of them for the play to be successful. On film, or more importantly, on the screen, Brook was faced with overcoming the hurdle of celluloid; that is to say, creating and exploiting the atmosphere of discomfort with an audience that was seemingly disconnected from what they were viewing. The fact that he overcame that hurdle and created such an imaginative and successful film is testimony to his accomplishments not only as an artist, but as a filmmaker as well, and in my eyes, his production gapped the play version of Marat/Sade. From the opening shot of the movie, it's immediately apparent how Brook decided to connect those seemingly disconnected viewers. The simplicity yet effectiveness of an over-the-shoulder camera angle is often overlooked in filmmaking, but throughout Marat/Sade, specifically the first scene, Brook utilizes this technique to place the audience right in the center of the action. As the movie begins, we, the viewers, find ourselves backstage in the asylum standing with the other inmates, being called upon by a group of nuns and prison guards to begin the performance. What's so effective about this approach is that instead of giving the audience the obligatory establishing shot of the asylum or of the inmates waiting to be called onstage, Brook puts the camera and the viewer with the performers. This not only immediately involves us within the film and the characters, it also creates a feeling of anticipation, and perhaps discomfort, for the viewing audience by letting it remain a mystery as to what kind of situation we are headed for. The unsteady and slight jerks and