12 Angry Men: An interesting take, but with a few hiccups
A complex play to pull off: Some of the cast members at rehearsals
Cold Theatre 7, under the artistic direction of Kevin Cruze, has had a history of performing murder mysteries (And Then There Were None, The Mousetrap) so it came as no surprise that Reginald Rose’s 12 Angry Men would be their next project. Initially written as a television play in 1954, its ’57 film adaptation garnered three Academy Award nominations and has since been reworked several times – this includes a Tamil film version in 2016 called Vaaimai.
A courtroom drama, the majority of the action takes place within one scene where a jury deliberates the possible innocence/guilt of a boy accused of killing his father. Although it appears to be a clear open and shut case, one character sows the seed of ‘reasonable doubt’, thus setting the stage for the heated debate that follows. Indeed, this play is less about the murder and more a study on character dynamics and internal prejudices.
Known for their signature twists, CT7 decided to switch it up by alternating between an all-male cast and an all-female cast for their four night run. Attending on Saturday and Sunday, both shows began with an introductory video to each juror and a prologue involving the judges (Tracy Holsinger and Jehan Aloysius). Playing with the visuals they even used animation to accompany the opening credits. Although I found that sequence slightly too long and perhaps an unnecessary addition to the show, I did appreciate the little things such as a brilliant theme song ‘Dark Side’(music and lyrics by Geethika Cooray and Zithoon Bin Ahamed and orchestration by Hirushan Maddumaarachchi) written specifically for the performance.
Perhaps the additions were to make up for the fact that the play is composed of only one scene which takes place within one room. With no interval I was curious to see how you could make one hour and forty-five minutes gripping and interesting. The staging was modest – a spartan jurors’ room with only one window for ventilation. Yet this, much like the costumes allowed the action to take centre stage.
I had mixed feelings about the lighting design. Certain elements such as mimicking the motion of a projector to analyse the murder scene was innovative. However, following the revelation that there was one juror who did not believe the boy was guilty, the lighting switched to red and spotlighted each character. Accompanied by menacing music, it felt too dramatic for the moment and unnecessary. There were also points when the spotlights missed the mark and actors were conversing in darkness.
Once on stage, each actor spent time carving out their own space and projecting their own personality onto everyone else. There’s Juror 12 (Piorina Fernando and Heshan Perera) – the slick business executive, Juror 2 (Celina Cramer-Amit and Avishka De Alwis) – the introvert with a self-esteem problem. There are those – Juror 3 (Shanuki de Alwis and Amesh de Silva) – whose voices are heard in a far more brash way than others. And then, there are some – Juror 8 (Bimsara Premaratna and Anuk De Silva) -who quietly but assertively get their point across and sway an entire room’s opinion. In general, it was pleasing to see each actor and actress take on different interpretations of the same character, adding more ways than one to think about the play.
The cast did a good job of always presenting a counter-argument for every proposed piece of evidence – there was always some form of doubt each way you turned and though it was frustrating for the characters onstage, it kept the audience’s attention. Striking the balance between tension and lightness, moments such as the cough drop part or waiting for the hand to reach 12 added the comic relief to what was quite a hostile situation. Alternatively, it was precisely those tense moments which made the show. Shanuki de Alwis played Juror 3, an angry, stubborn character hell-bent on the boy’s guilt. Her final monologue allowed her to fully let loose on her internal prejudices and why she was so utterly convinced he was the murderer. You could almost hear a pin drop in the theatre until Juror 4 finally said, ‘Let the boy live’. It was a beautiful moment that packed so much emotion into it.
Although the script was written in a way that emphasises certain characters over others, there were definite standouts from both casts. Particular mention goes to Bimsara Premaratna who was cool, calm and collected in the role and carried herself with such finesse, particularly nailing the ‘is he smart or is he dumb’ monologue. A powerful moment came in the final video during the delivery of the verdict when she and the accused share a look leading the audience to question what her own motives were, or whether the boy was actually guilty – essentially flipping the entire play on its head.
Despite being cast in a smaller role, Jerome de Silva has always had the innate ability to naturally embody any character he plays and this time he absolutely ignited the stage with his careful, precise movements. A true thespian! Additionally, Nadishka Aloysius and Mohamed Adamaly (both of whom played Juror 4) exhibited subtle cunning personas that made it fascinating to watch them interact with other characters onstage.
Having said that, I’m not sure I was entirely convinced by the anger on display. A tricky emotion to pull off, at points it became too caricature. For instance Juror 7 (Saranie Wijesinghe) and Juror 10 (Kavitha Gunesekera) had a habit of constantly placing their hands on their hips and shaking their fingers when they both got aggravated. With the men, there was no proper buildup to the anger so it went from 0 to 100 quite quickly and there was a lot of slamming tables and kicking chairs. Sometimes it was hard to make out what they were saying because the shouting became incoherent. The execution of anger came across as if they were “acting” it out rather than actually being angry.
It is unfortunate that Juror 11 – the foreign character (Liza De Costa and Dulika Jayamanne) – was frequently laughed at by the audience whenever they said something. I suspect the accents were what they found amusing but annoyingly the audience just turned them into a foreigner stereotype that’s merely placed in a show for comic relief which clearly was not the intention of the actors. But speaking of accents another thing which was slightly odd was the mixture of them onstage – some actors invested in American accents, some used received pronunciation, others their normal speaking voice. It was confusing to hear and one was not entirely sure whether this was supposed to be New York or somewhere else.
Of course the perennial question is, how far does the interpretation of the play change when performed by an all-female cast? I do not think there is a marked difference but you can certainly see the impact it can make. For instance it is brilliant to see a full cast of women portray a whole spectrum of characters,with different thought processes and feelings, rather than being reduced to just a meek/subservient stereotype – after all, 11 of them are initially prepared to send a boy off to die without hesitation. As a result, the women display empowerment in various ways – whether it be through the expression of anger (commonly reserved as a male characteristic) or through their intelligence and composure in sustaining the ‘reasonable doubt’ argument.
Perhaps this is the reason why I found the women’s performance more compelling. I did feel like the pace and energy of the men considerably slowed down so it was not as gripping as it could have been. 12 Angry Men is a complex play to pull off and there were definitely great things about this production but especially with regard to characterization and dealing with anger, a little fine-tuning would have gone a long way.