Father Urbain Grandier was a seventeenth-century priest of the town of Loudun in France. Although there were civic leaders, it was Grandier who held most of the power. The small town was known for its strong walls, which prevented it from being absorbed into the ever-lengthening grasp of the French King. Or more realistically, it was the infamous Cardinal Richelieu who wanted Loudun’s walls torn down so he could ensure his vision of a state-driven nation, finally eliminating the endless city-towns from the medieval ages. Father Grandier was also a libertine, carrying on affairs with local women, conveying some of his arrogance. When an irate father, upset that his daughter was pregnant with the priest’s child, combined forces with Richelieu’s henchmen, it spelled the end of Grandier and the independence of the fortified town.
This dramatic play by John Whiting was based upon Aldous Huxley’s non-fiction history of the true story of Grandier and Loudun. First performed in 1961 with Diana Rigg and Max Adrian, the play would then be adapted into Ken Russell’s notorious movie of 1971 (there was also an opera based upon Whiting’s play). It’s quite a read, even without seeing it on the stage. It brings up the struggle between the powerful and the poor and how otherwise decent citizens can turn against what they believe in, based upon the words of the rich. As such, it’s a timely reminder for this current century where the Putins and the Trumps and the Bolsonaros, among others, can mesmerize the very people they despise. The dialogue reads as rapid-fire, and I was absorbed all the way through. As always, when we forget the past, we must relive it at some point in time.
Well, every man is his own drain. He carries his main sewer with him. Gutters run about him to carry off the dirt --
dużo jedzenia dla myśli, mało jednoznaczności. precyzyjna, “sharp”, zredukowana do esencji – ogrooooomne tematy kompleksowo ujęte w czymś, co czyta się bardzo szybko i co nie spowalnia ani na chwilę. rozmach godny szekspira albo tysiącstronicowego fantasy, bardziej filmowe niż teatralne. niemniej jednak nie wiem, jak ocenić te książkę.
Since there isn't a summary listed, I'll write in the blurb at the beginning: "Within the cloister of the provincial French Nunnery at Loudun, rumour has spoken to Sister Jeanne of the Angels, of the libertine priest, Urbain Grandier. A vision of him as spiritual advisor to the order possesses her. When he rejects the offer of the Mother Superior, she accuses him of filling the nuns' minds through the power of Satan with filth and lust. For the clerics who are jealous of his brilliance in preaching, for the laity who disapprove his luxury, and for Richelieu, the 'eminence grise' over all France, who resents his political influence, the hysterical passion of the nuns is a sword against Grandier. Their charge for his trial is diabolism."
Sex, lies, death, crazy Catholics--I would love to see this play staged. It was slow going at first, but once it got over introducing all of the plot lines it really picked up in terms of dialogue speed, character involvement, and sinister undertones. It would be very interesting to see how a modern audience would react to this.
"Yes,Yes.We are flies upon the wall.Buzzing in the heat.That's so.That's so.No,no.We're monsters made up in a day.Clay in a baby's hands.Horrible, we should be bottled and hung in the pharmacy.Curiosities, for amusement only.So.Nothing."(Grandier). For some uncanny reason, this statement seems to sum up the fraility and absurdity of the Human.
Whiting is originally a screen-writer for movies which explains the somewhat telegraphic lines and the lack of specific stage directions suitable for a theatrical performance.
The themes are nothing but intriguing: diabolic possession/blasphemy/confession/priesthood...You know where this is going, I suppose.It is like reading about the end of an "alleged" heretic with all of the drama of inquisition and trial (if there was any at all, though).
There are some passages that really gave me goosebumps because they are so hauntingly beautiful (like the one I quoted at the beginning).
At any rate, I wonder why Whiting is virtually unknown compared to other playwrights because this play sure leaves a mark ( a scar; you decide).
While judging a play based only on the script is presumptive, I can certainly see how a wonderfully discomforting and thoughtful play can be made by this script. The play serves I presume (since it was based on a book Aldous Huxley wrote during the red scare) as a cautionary tale of mass-paranoia triggered by the "holier than thou 's" of the world (although this Grandier seemed to have suicidal intentions in order to martyrize himself). What I like about this version of the story is that the nuns discuss amongst themselves whether to keep the charade up, thus disclosing to the audience that the possession is a sham. To anyone dropping by this play or review, I highly recommend finding the movie and watching it at least once. The movie is a overtly political film warning about the unholy Union of church and state, forcing religion on the unwilling and the repression of sexuality.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
A solid stage adaption of Huxley's "The Devils of Loudun" which was closely mirrored in Ken Russel's highly controversial film adaption of the same name. This play is enjoyable but fails to capture the arrogance and audacity of Grandier, the sexual repression of the Ursuline nuns and the absurdly twisted beliefs and exorcisms of Rangier, Barre and Mignon. Despite the volatile and sensitive subject matter, Whiting disappointingly refrained from pushing the boundaries and instead produced a work free of any real risk of controversy ( contrast this with the infamous scene of Sister Jeanne masturbating in the Ursuline convent to thoughts of Grandier as Christ!).
Though based on Aldous Huxley's terrific book 'The Devils of Loudun', and the inspiration for Ken Russell's masterpiece 'The Devils', Whiting's play is a surprisingly uninteresting retelling of the case of Urbain Grandier, oddly lacking in passion and tension. A dated play overshadowed by the other incarnations of the story.
pretty good. not bad. better than it gets credit for, i'd say, since i've never heard of it getting any credit at all. i wonder why no one has staged this thing recently. world's i.q. much lower than mr. whiting's, i suspect. and he's dead.