Horia Gârbea's play, Murder by BB Gun, is an excellent black comedy spotlighting critical issues regarding the justice system and the interplay of truth and falsehood, in the context of an uncertain, ever-changing reality. It is a provocative text, incorporating that dramatical vibration, that essence which can only be revealed on stage, embodied by the actors' performance, and creating that theatre magic which the audience can sense.
Emanuel Petran, the director of the performance, and the actors Irina Wintze, Dan Chiorean and Cristian Rigman invite you to join them in unravelling a murder mystery whose social and psychological implications are acutely relevant for our contemporary society.
Nu e ușor să fii regizor, să ai în față un text și atâtea posibilități de viabilitate scenică. Ai acolo didascaliile autorului, însă poți urma căi diverse, chiar provocatoare. Oare nu trebuie să adopți o regie care să nu trădeze autorul? Îl poți surprinde plăcut, însă cu soluții care să se nască din însuși aluatul textului. Așa a procedat Emanuel Petran, regizând piesa Crimă cu pistol și bile de Horia Gârbea, atunci când a adus pe scenă sicriul, în care se lăfăia Vicu Mugurel zis Pastramă. (...) O regie tonică, simplă, nesofisticată. Dacă în scenariu victima „poate fi doar personaj filmat" sau „rol mut", aici umorul prodigios provine de la necumințenia mortului din sicriu, care vorbește rar, dar bine, cu aplomb impudic. Actorul Cristian Rigman (victima) realizează un rol memorabil, pitoresc, hâtru, clovnesc, scos dintr-un realism magic detensionat. Dan Chiorean (învinuitul) electrizează scena, strunind contorsiunile personajului omniprezent. Desigur, marea revelație rămâne Irina Wintze, care joacă toate rolurile feminine: polițista, procuroarea, avocata, soția învinuitului, soția victimei, soacra victimei, mama învinuitului, soacra învinuitului, judecătoarele 1, 2, 3. Incredibil, nu? Știam că Irina e o actriță de excepție, dar acum ce să mai spunem după acest maraton de interpretare? Mai sunt adjective pentru a sublinia multitudinea nuanțelor de joc? În fiecare personaj ea e cu totul altfel, nu transpare vreo umbră din rolul anterior. Îmi permit să spun magie. (...) Un spectacol suculent, cu impact imediat, într-o relaționare magnetică cu spectatorii, emblematic pentru o societate care bate adesea pasul pe loc.
Emanuel Petran supralicită parodic anumite situații, învestind cu un comic copios întregul complex de împrejurări, nu însă ca scop în sine, ci contând pe efectul terapeutic al râsului. Irina Wintze, admirabila Irina Wintze, interpretează nu mai puțin de unsprezece personaje în ceva mai mult de o oră. Cu ajutorul câtorva accesorii, peruci, ochelari, articole vestimentare, actrița trece lejer de la o identitate la alta, oferind publicului un regal actoricesc.
Horia Gârbea was born in Bucharest on August 10th 1962. He is a poet, playwright, prose writer, journalist, essayist, translator, and scientist. He has graduated from the Faculty of Land Reclamation and Environmental Engineering in Bucharest, with a PhD in engineering on construction safety.
For three years, between 1981 and 1983, he was part of the “Monday Literary Circle” led by Nicolae Manolescu, and in 1983-1990 he took part in the “Universitas” Literary Circle at the Faculty of Philology (University of Bucharest), led by the critic Mircea Martin. He made his literary debut as a poet in 1982, in the magazine “Amphitheatre”. His first collection of plays was Madam Bovary Are the Others (1993). He has published multiple subsequent volumes: Mephisto (1993), Whoever Killed Marx? (1999), December, Live (2000), as well as poetry books: Biographical Text (1996), Witness Testing (1996), and the short story collection Bucharest Mysteries (1997). The novel The Fall of the Bastille (1998) has received three national awards.
His plays have been produced both in Romania and in several European countries.
He has translated works by Corneille, Arrabal, Chekhov, Machiavelli, Dario Fo, Tennessee Williams, Marivaux, S.I. Witkiewicz, Eduardo de Fillipo, and, since 2011, he has been taking part in the translation of Shakespearian texts (at “Tracus Arte” Publishing House) in the project coordinated by G. Volceanov: Vis de-o noapte-n miezul verii [A Midsummer Night’s Dream], Negustorul din Veneția [The Merchant of Venice], Henric al VI-lea, the third part [Henry VI] and Antoniu și Cleopatra [Antony and Cleopatra] (in collaboration with Ioana Diaconescu), Richard al III-lea [Richard III], Macbeth, Julius Caesar (in collaboration with Lucia Verona), Sonete alese și alte versuri [Selected Sonnets and Other Poems].
He has written screenplays for film and television shows, he has coordinated and edited anthologies, he has written numerous prefaces.
He is also a contributor to various literary and cultural magazines, as well as daily newspapers in Romania: “Luceafarul", “Contemporanul" [The Contemporary], “Scena" [The Stage], “Viața Românească" [Romanian Life], “Vatra" [The Hearth], “Familia" [Family], “Tomis", “Art-Panorama", “Phoenix", “Cațavencu", “Cotidianul" [The Daily Newspaper], “Poesis", “Cronica" [The Chronicle], “Neuma" and others. He has received several literary awards, including: The Grand “Nicolae Labiș” Poetry Award (1990), The Poetry Award of the Writers’ Association in Bucharest (1997), The “Ion Creangă” Prose Award (1998), The Dramaturgy Award of the Writers’ Union (1999), The “I.L. Caragiale” Award of the Romanian Academy (2001), The “Andrei Bantaș” Translation Award of the Writers’ Union (together with Violeta Popa and George Volceanov, 2012), The Translation Award of the Writers’ Union (together with Lucia Verona and George Volceanov, 2015), The Children’s Literature Award of the Writers’ Union (2017), The Public Choice Award at the Poetry Tournament ‘The Laurel Wreath’, 8th edition, Alexandroupolis, Greece.
Other literary awards for poetry, prose, and dramaturgy: The Writers’ Union Award at the Sighet Festival (1987), The “Luceafărul” Dramaturgy Award (1991), The Poetry Volume Award – Sighet (1996), The “Poesis” Prose Award in Satu Mare (1998), The Southern “Alexandru Odobescu” Award, Călărași, for his literary activity (1998), The Art-Panorama Criticism Award (1998), The “Convorbiri literare” Dramaturgy Award (1999), The Poetry Award of the Tomis Colloquium (2004), The Prose Award of Antares magazine (2004), The Award of the Caligraf magazine (2009), The “Play of the Year” Award of the Drama magazine (2009), The Award of the Bona Fide Foundation for Literature (2010), The Grand Prize of the “Ion Cănăvoiu” Humour Festival, Târgu Jiu (2011), The Second Prize of the Poetry Tournament “The Laurel Wreath on Mount Olympus”, organised by the Writers’ Union of Romania, Leptokarya, Greece (2011), The Journalism Award of the Luceafărul magazine (2012), The International “Heydar Aliyev 90” Award, Azerbaijan (2013).
He has received the Order of Cultural Merit: Knight (2004), then Officer (2010).
Over the years he has held numerous positions in cultural institutions: literary secretary of the “Toma Caragiu” Theatre in Ploiești, president of the Writers’ Association in Bucharest – a branch of the Writers’ Union of Romania, president of the Bucharest Branch – Dramaturgy of the Writers’ Union of Romania, president of the Bucharest Branch – Poetry of the Writers’ Union of Romania, appointed member of the Directorial Committee of the Writers’ Union, general secretary on the editorial board of “Luceafărul de dimineață” magazine, vice-president of the Romanian Cultural Institute etc.
At the online “Critical Mini-Café” (September 6th 2021), hosted by Ion-Bogdan Lefter, Horia Gârbea discussed his scientific formation and the ways in which it converged with his passion for literature: “Mathematical and scientific rigour helps you discipline your thinking. I have graduate from a mathematics-and-physics high school, as well as a technical faculty. While completing my doctorate, I also wrote plays, I published books. These two things were never mutually exclusive. Ultimately, I think it is a matter of discipline”.
The Author’s Note
Pistols, Bullets, and Appearances
What is truth and how do you obtain it? What is justice and how do we know it has been served? Is everything that is just automatically good, as well? These are some of the questions that we all ask ourselves, explicitly or not. We have learned – we, the ones who go to the theatre and even read theatre – from Shakespeare and Pirandello that, more often than not, truth is but an appearance. In the great tragedy Coriolanus, Shakespeare’s only humourless play, Aufidius explicitly states: Virtues are mere interpretations!
Of course, these themes can be approached seriously and solemnly, but I believe that a little humour is never harmful when trying to decipher the finest nuances or, on the contrary, when attempting to furiously cut a Gordian knot.
Appearance and essence are not as different as they seem, and, moreover, there is no single appearance of a thing or situation. As is well-known, we often end up resorting to a two-dimensional representation: a cone’s shadow on a wall is a triangle. A pyramid’s – a triangle, as well. Only when we look at the cone’s shadow on the floor do we see a circle. The most favourable prophecies are, when fulfilled, catastrophic. Macbeth experienced this firsthand. You can find yourself before a forest marching towards you in a fatal rhythm.
In my case and in the case of the play you are doing me the honour of watching – just like with my other plays, comedies without exception – I did not seek to solve any indissoluble problem which philosophy and theatre have been hunting down without rest, from Ancient Greece to globalist postmodernity. I simply tried to present a situation resembling reality, in which no real body can be reassembled from its various facets.
However, what is left behind – namely, the ethical subtext – is irrefutable, regardless of the deceptive images projected and mirrored throughout the play, which are more or less dynamic. It cannot be eluded based on the principle of appearances. Aufidius was wrong, and Shakespeare was setting a trap: “virtues are mere interpretations” for Aufidius, because he himself is a scoundrel. He sets Coriolanus up, staging a victory and a betrayal. Likewise, the Roman consuls concoct a fake trial against his not-at-all-fake pride, but this pride is covered up with facts and presented as murder. The indisputable reality is that we are dealing with moral perversion. In fact, in any authentic play, we will discover some sort of infirmity in every character whose morality we inspect closely. Is Hamlet’s cause a just one? Let’s assume it is. But the New Testament does not require that we seek revenge. On the contrary. Is Ophelia a mere victim? Is Henry V an exemplary knight? After all, he is an invader. As for his gentle son, Henry VI, who dreamed of becoming a shepherd, far from royal honours, he is (at least in Shakespeare’s story) a weakly king, who drags his country into civil war and various other disasters, eventually allowing Richard III to seize power.
I have chosen these famous examples not because I consider myself comparable to such masters without equal, but because they provide the best summary of the spectator’s dilemma when confronted with the characters’ appearances, magnified to a monstrous degree by the ethical lens. Every dramatic author has to confront these uncertainties, these major doubts.
Concerning the play Murder with Pistol and Bullet Balls, I want to say as little as possible. The spectators are going to watch it, and the public is the best judge in theatre, being its beneficiary. I myself am an exigent critic of my own texts, as well as the productions based on them. I can only say that everything I have written above about the game of appearances also applies to this play, where I juggled the different versions of a single event. Does a change in perspective also alter the facts? Of course not. But it alters our understanding and judgement. However, there is also a moral essence at play. The difference between good and evil is immutable. But that between “a bad man” and “a good man” implies an endless game of nuances.
Horia Gârbea
About the production: in conversation with the director, Emanuel Petran
Emanuel Petran is familiar to the public as an actor, having played extremely diverse characters, from Emelian in The Overcoat based on Gogol and Bulgakov, Hamal in Exactly at the Same Time by Gellu Naum, Madam Ubu in Ubucharest based on Caragiale and A. Jarry, Mister Purgon in The Imaginary Invalid by Molière, The Duke of Burgundy in King Lear by Shakespeare, Milan in Rock’n Roll by Tom Stoppard, Korobkin in The Inspector-General by Gogol to Cléante in Tartuffe by Molière – and these are only a few of his roles. Now, he is directing a production whose cast is made up of his own colleagues from the National Theatre of Cluj-Napoca.
Eugenia Sarvari: Emanuel, you have a double BA in acting and theatre direction, which you graduated from in 2016. It’s been five years. How many productions have you directed since graduation?
Emanuel Petran: Yes, five years have gone by so quickly since I got my degree in directing. Due to the fact that I have been the manager of “Puck” Puppet Theatre for the last eight years – until June 1st of this year – I never had the time to move to another city for one month or one month and a half for the sake of a theatre production. However, I did work as a director during my holidays, which resulted in productions such as The Buffoon based on Chekhov at the North Theatre of Satu Mare or A Stormy Night by I.L. Caragiale at “I.D. Sârbu” Theatre in Reșița. At “Puck” Puppet Theatre, I have directed the production Scheherazade’s Tales and the radiophonic production The Flower Queen by Ionuț Constantinescu.
E.S.: Acting and directing both belong to the “organism” called theatre. Is there just as much magic in both?
E.P.: It is true, they belong to the same organism and they are, in my view, complementary. In fact, this is what makes them survive together. I mean – the director has an idea about a text, he tries to bring the text to life, artistically, with the help of the actors. It is a father-and-mother situation. I don’t think we can say that one or the other is more important, both are just as crucial. A disembodied idea remains a mere idea, a form of literature, while acting without an idea is just a bit of life devoid of meaning.
E.S.: How difficult is it to leave the stage, to step into the audience, and to direct your colleagues, from here? The colleagues with whom you usually share the emotions and the thrill of acting; it would seem to me that you experience all these things rather differently as a director.
E.P.: It wasn’t easy, especially since the actors have been my colleagues for years and see me, probably involuntarily, as another actor, which can reverse the roles of actor and director. But this was only at first; then, we became more comfortable, and each of us tried to do their job as well as possible and to fulfill their role in the creative process. As for my presence on stage, when I decided that I also want to direct, I was perfectly aware of the pros and cons, which I fully committed to and which never constituted a problem. Anyway, I haven’t given up on acting, so I can go back whenever I miss it.
E.S.: Is this your first encounter with black comedy? How complicated was the encounter with Horia Gârbea’s text?
E.P.: Yes, it is my first encounter with black comedy as a director. But I do enjoy a challenge. Therefore, I read Horia Gârbea’s text a few times and then it simply came to life in my imagination. Its main quality is that it creates theatrical situations which are very diverse, although the play only requires three actors and a single setting.
E.S.: Based on his declarations, the accused does not appear to be guilty of the murder. Any of the characters could have committed the crime. In your view, will we ever find out who is guilty?
E.P.: Even I don’t know who is guilty. Only justice knows that, so the public will have to wait and see…
E.S.: What are your future plans regarding theatre direction? Which text/texts have caught your attention?
E.P.: I have thought of a few productions which I have already imagined and designed on paper, but they require action, lest they remain mere ideas. For instance, a modernised version of François Villon, A Lost Letter, Escurial by Michel de Ghelderode, and many more… I would also love to direct other Romanian plays; I have been thinking about a few of these. But I cannot make a lot of plans, because I don’t want to be disappointed. Should it happen, I will be very glad; should it fail to happen, I will go on acting. I am also working on a play of my own called The Mercenaries of Thought. I never get bored.
