Some productions can be appreciated even if one does not follow the language used. However, Begum Barve by Pune’s Theatre Academy (at Nandikar‘s National Theatre Festival, December 9) depends so much on the nuances in the Marathi dialogue that it would be unfair to criticize it from visual impressions alone.
The protagonist belongs to that period in Marathi theatre history when female impersonators like the legendary Bal Gandharva formed the cynosure of all eyes. Now fallen on hard times, Begum Barve reflects nostalgically on the glory days of Marathi musical extravaganzas, and his/her personal tragedy occupies centre-stage. Fantasy and reality delicately weave in and out of Satish Alekar’s play, but the problem of transsexualism does not receive the exploration it could have. Instead, one feels that Alekar merely uses the dramatic situation as a means to string together an admittedly lustrous chain of old Marathi theatre songs, delivered superbly by Chandrakant Kale in the title role.
Whatever Kale’s prowess as a diva, his constant coyness as a woman is carried a bit too far, making Barve full of stereotyped feminine mannerisms. Similarly, one expected far superior acting from Mohan Agashe, who laughs and walks like a cliched villain as the theatre owner who “owns” Barve; his doubling as the Sutradhar is better. In contrast, the naturalism of Alekar himself and Ramesh Medhekar (the two ordinary clerks) creates a greater impact. Generally, Alekar’s direction finds the performers facing the audience in full frontal posture much too often, resembling a song recital all the more.
(From The Telegraph, 1 January 1992)