Watch the play The Good Man from Szechwan. "The Good Man from Szechwan." Yuri Butusov. Comrade Pushkin

FROM THE HISTORY OF THE PERFORMANCE
Premiere: April 23, 1964
A play-parable in 2 acts
director Yuri Lyubimov

With “The Good Man...” everything was wrong

When the students sang “The Ram Song”:

Rams walk in a row
The drums are beating

and the second zong especially:

The authorities are walking along the road...
There's a corpse on the road.

“Eh! Yes, these are the people!”

I edited these two zongs; they are different in Brecht. The audience began to stomp their feet and shout: “Repeat! Repeat! Repeat!" - and so on for about five minutes, I thought the school would fall apart.

I scared everyone, and I was the first to scare Yuzovsky - he was one of the translators of “The Good Man...”. At one time, he was worked hard - like a cosmopolitan: he was kicked out of work... And he spoke about it very figuratively: “The telephone died first,” - no one called.

And then he was so scared that he pressed me into a corner, all pale, shaking: “You don’t understand anything, you’re a crazy person, you know what they’ll do to you - you can’t even imagine! If you don’t remove these zongs, then at least remove my name from the poster so that it won’t be visible that this is my translation!...” This made a very strong impression on me: a man older than me, very respected - and such fear. Shostakovich was also frightened by the authorities - mortally afraid of them.

And Zahava was just extremely upset. He was afraid that this was anti-Soviet, that the school would now be closed. And he didn’t like it... It’s strange though. After all, before this, I showed a passage for forty minutes to the department, and the department clapped, which does not happen so often. That means they felt something. But when I showed everything, the reaction was to close the performance.

Then work began inside the school and they decided: “to close the performance as anti-people, formalistic” - signed by Zahava. But, thank God, a good review appeared in “The Week” - and I was waiting for it to come out. Zakhava called the newspaper and said that the school did not accept this performance and that the review should be removed. But he called late, the printing was already underway. And at this time a long elaboration meeting began, I was called.

But they warned me that printing was already underway, and they said:

Can you stall for time?

I speak:

How can I pull?

Well, while they are printing. Take a little longer to sort this whole thing out.

In my opinion, Natella Lordkipanidze worked there. Then there was a break to smoke, and they brought me a hot copy of the newspaper. And when the meeting began, I began to read. They pulled me back: “They’re working on you, but you’re reading something.”

Sorry,” and let the “Week” pass through the hands of those working on it. Then they began to say again:

Now you are reading, you need to work through it, not read.

In short, the newspaper came to Zahava, in a circle. He says:

What are you all reading there? What's there? And someone says:

Yes, here they praise him, they say that it is interesting, wonderful. It turns out that we are wrong in our elaboration...

It was a room where the party bureau at the school met, some kind of classroom. There were about fifteen to twenty people there. But they, the poor, came because they could not be refused. Even someone from the theater was there. There were high-ranking officials there: Tolchanov, Zakhava, and Cecilia (Mansurova). Zahava was against it, Tolchanov supported Zahava:

We went through this.

And I said:

That's it! You passed by, and that’s why you got stuck in the swamp of your realism.

Yes, this is not realism at all, but just monkey work.

After all, it turned out that the performance was shown in public, as is customary, and Moscow is Moscow - it’s not clear how they found out, but, as always happens, you can’t hold it back. They broke the doors and sat on the floor. Twice as many people crowded into this small hall at the Shchukin school as there were seats, and they were afraid that the school would collapse.

I remember the first time I was amazed was when they called us all together - there was also Ruben Nikolaevich - to close Sovremennik. And everyone was sorting out the “Naked King”: who is the naked king and who is the prime minister - this was under Khrushchev. And they got so worked up that they closed the meeting because they couldn’t understand - if Khrushchev is a naked king, then who is the prime minister? So Brezhnev? The associative nonsense brought them to the point that they got scared and closed down this meeting, the trial of Sovremennik. But they wanted to close the theater with our hands so that we would condemn it.

And I had the same thing - the first study was at the department. My colleagues did not want to produce “The Good Man...” and did not want to count it as a graduation performance for students. And only then a favorable press appeared, and workers from the Stankolit and Borets factories, intellectuals, scientists, musicians were invited to the performance - and they really supported me. They hoped to strangle me with the hands of the workers, but they liked “A Good Man...”, there were a lot of zong songs, the guys performed them very well, the workers clapped and congratulated those who wanted to close the performance, saying: “Thank you, a very good performance!” - and they somehow wilted. And at this time a good article by Konstantin Simonov appeared in Pravda.

Here. Well, I fought back very hard. So who has what fate? And my fate is this: I fought back all the time.

And yet I believe that at that time Brecht was not truly completed, because the students did not realize it, that is, they simply did as I said. After all, this performance was hammered into me with a crutch, because my ligaments were torn. And then, there were bandits in my course, literally, who wrote denunciations against me - if we tell the truth - that I was not teaching them according to the Stanislavsky system. Because I hammered in rhythm with a crutch - I tore my ligaments and walked with it.

A new Arbat was built. A dump truck pushed me and I rolled into a pothole and tore ligaments in my leg. And that’s why I walked on crutches to finish rehearsing. And every time I thought: “Fuck them... I’ll spit and I won’t go to this filthy School anymore!” That's the truth. This is the truth. The rest is all highly embellished.

Before this, as a teacher, I staged small excerpts with different students. With Andrei Mironov, I staged “Schweik” - Lukas the Lieutenant, where he is drunk, his debate with Schweik. Even then I had a theory: it is necessary to make an excerpt for the student - for about fifteen minutes - so that he can show up, so that he can be hired. Therefore, we need to make it fun and interesting.

And this was a legend of the school - he was accepted into all theaters with this passage, except Vakhtangov. I was even surprised, I told Ruben Nikolaevich:

Why, Ruben Nikolaevich, did you not accept him? - but he somehow answered evasively.

Just like I did an excerpt from Chekhov with Volkov, with Okhlupin - now famous artists. Why do I remember, because here too they began to teach me at the department that Chekhov should not be taught like that. I staged a story about a doctor who comes to see a sick person - he sees only whims - and a child dies at his home.

I even did one act of “Turbine Days” there. I made two or three excerpts from Fear and Confusion. .." After “The Good Man...” I didn’t teach anymore.

I read a translation by Yuzovsky and Ionova in a magazine. And I found it very interesting, difficult and strange, because I knew little about Brecht. I just didn't know much.

For Moscow this was an unusual drama. Brecht was staged very little, and Moscow knew him poorly. I had not seen the Berliner Ensemble and was completely free from influence. This means that he did it intuitively, freely, without the pressure of Brecht’s traditions. I read, of course, about him, his works, his various instructions. But still, it’s good that I didn’t see a single performance. I later saw “Arthur Oui”, and “Galileo”, and “Coriolanus”, “Mother” in Brechtian style, then “Buying Copper” - this is such a controversial performance. Very interesting. I even wanted to stage it.

And because I didn’t see anything by Brecht, I was clean and it turned out to be such a Russian version of Brecht. The performance was as my intuition and my instinct told me. I was free, I didn't imitate anyone. I believe that after all, I brought them a new dramaturgy to the school: I mean Brecht. Because it seemed to me that the very construction of Brechtian drama, the principles of his theater - certainly political theatre, would somehow force students to see more of the world around them and find themselves in it, and find their attitude to what they see. Because without this you cannot play Brecht. Then, I still managed to break the canon in the sense that usually the diploma is passed in the fourth year, but I convinced my students to allow their diploma to be passed in the third year. It was very difficult to do, I had to convince the department. They allowed me to show a fragment for thirty to forty minutes, and if this fragment satisfied them, then they would allow me to do a diploma.

And now they even calmly give this to my students; Sabinin is already staging graduation performances one after another, and they are all professors, associate professors. And I was some kind of ordinary teacher, I received a ruble per hour. They hired to teach as drivers - I even thought of earning money by teaching - three rubles per hour. And when they offered me Taganka after that “Good …”, I said with a smile: “ But, in general, you are offering me three hundred rubles, and I jokingly earn six hundred rubles in the cinema, on television, and on the radio, and you say this: your salary will be three hundred rubles,” I immediately came into conflict with by superiors. I presented to them thirteen points for rebuilding the old theater.

Moscow is an amazing city - everyone there knows everything by rumors. Rumors spread that some interesting performance was being prepared. And since everyone is bored, and diplomats too, if something is interesting, it means there will be a scandal. As my late friend Erdman said, “if there is no scandal around a theater, then it is not a theater.” So, in this sense, he was a prophet in relation to me. And so it was. Well, it’s boring, and everyone wants to come and see, and they know that if it’s interesting, it will be closed. Therefore, it took a long time for the performance to begin; the audience rushed into the hall. These diplomats sat down on the floor in the passage, a fireman ran in, a pale director, the rector of the school, said that he would not allow it, because the hall might collapse. In the hall, where there are seats for two hundred and forty people, there are about four hundred sitting - in general, there was a complete scandal. I stood with a flashlight - the electrics there were very bad, and I myself stood and moved the flashlight. Brecht's portrait was highlighted in the right places. And I kept driving this lantern and shouting:

For God's sake, let the performance continue, what are you doing, because they will close the performance, no one will see it! Why are you stomping around, don’t you understand where you live, you idiots!

And yet I calmed them down. But, of course, everything was recorded and reported. Well, they closed it after that.

They saved the honor of the uniform. It ended in tears, because rector Zahava came and began to correct the performance. The students didn't listen to him. Then he called me. I had a conditional tree there made of planks. He said:

The play won't work with a tree like that. If you don't make the tree more realistic, I can't allow it.

I speak:

I ask you to tell me how to do this. He says:

Well, at least cover these strips and cover the barrel with cardboard. We don't have money, I understand. Draw the tree bark.

Can I let some ants down the trunk?

He got angry and said:

Leave my office.

That's how I fought. But the young students still listened to me. Well, some people went to complain to me, to the department, that I was destroying the traditions of Russian realism, and so on, and so on.

This was interesting to me because I set new tasks for myself all the time. It seemed to me that sometimes Brecht was too didactic and boring. Suppose I staged the factory scene almost paptomimically. There is minimal text. And in Brecht this is a huge text scene. I re-edited the play a little, shortened it a lot. I made one zong based on Tsvetaeva’s text, her love poems:

Yesterday I looked into your eyes,

Equated with the Chinese power,

I unclenched both hands at once,

Life has fallen like a rusty penny...

And the rest were all Brechtian, although I took several other zongs, not for this play.

There were almost no decorations, they later remained the same, I took them from school to the theater when Taganka was formed. There were two tables where students studied - from the audience - there was no money, we made the decorations ourselves: me and the students.

But there was still a portrait of Brecht on the right - the artist Boris Blank painted it very well. And he himself looks very much like Brecht - just as if he and Brecht were twins. Then, when the portrait became old, he tried to rewrite it several times, but it always turned out badly. And we kept this portrait all the time: we sewed it up, darned it, tinted it. And so he lived for 30 years. All the new ones that Blank tried to make did not work out - it was fate.

I studied a lot of plasticity and rhythm, but it seemed to the students that this was to the detriment of Stanislavsky’s psychological school. Unfortunately, Stanislavsky’s system in school programs was very narrowed; he himself was much broader, and reducing the system only to the psychological school greatly impoverishes the craft and reduces the level of skill.

Discovering Brecht's dramaturgy, I was also looking for new methods of working with students - I staged a graduation performance in my third year, so that they could meet with the audience and play for another year. And they actually spent this whole year learning how to talk to the public. Because Brecht, in my opinion, is impossible without dialogue with the viewer. This, in general, helped a lot in the development of the entire theater, because at that time these were new techniques for the school and for students.

A new form of plastique, the ability to conduct a dialogue with the audience, the ability to reach the viewer... The complete absence of the fourth wall. But there's nothing particularly new here. Now everyone understands the famous Brechtian alienation effect in their own way. Entire volumes have been written about him. When you seem to be on the outside... Out of character.

Diderot in “The Paradox of the Actor” has in a sense the same idea, but only in Brecht it is also equipped with a very political overtone, the position of the artist in society. The “paradox of the actor” comes down to the duality of the actor, the dual sensations of the actor, his duality on stage. And Brecht still has a moment when the actor’s position outside the image, as a citizen, his attitude to reality, to the world is very important to him. And he finds it possible for the actor at this time to kind of step out of the character and leave it aside.

Lord, as soon as you start to remember, a whole chain of associations immediately follows. Boris Vasilich Shchukin, my teacher, died with the book “The Paradox of the Actor.” When his son came to him in the morning, he was lying dead with an open book by Diderot. In this regard, I also remembered a book that I read as a young man: “The Actress” by the Goncourt brothers. There is a very good observation there: when she stands in front of a deceased loved one, a loved one, she experiences deep grief, and at the same time she catches herself with a terrible thought: “Remember, this is how such things should be played on stage.” This is a very interesting observation. I started studying to be an actor and then I often caught myself doing the same thing.

Working with students, I always showed a lot, I was always looking for mise-en-scène expressiveness. And he developed a precise drawing, both psychological and external. I was very careful about the expressiveness of the body. And all the time he taught them not to be afraid to go from external to internal. And often the right mise-en-scène later gave them the right inner life. Although, of course, their tendency was to do the opposite: to go from internal to external? This is the main commandment of the school: to feel, to sense the life of the human spirit within. But I also believe that the main thing is the life of the human spirit; we just need to find a theatrical form so that this life of the human spirit can freely manifest itself and have an impeccable form of expression. Otherwise, it turns the actor into an amateur. He cannot express his feelings, he lacks the means: no diction, no voice, no plasticity, no sense of himself in space. I believe that even now it is very bad to teach an actor to understand the director’s intentions. All major conflicts between actor and director occur because the actor has little interest in the whole idea. But the director is also obliged to make a general explication of his plan. And we know the brilliant explications of Meyerhold, Stanislavsky, Vakhtangov.

Maybe I'm reaching a paradox, but I believe that any famous performance in the history of theater can be very accurately described by how it was made, how it was solved: light, scenography, plasticity. I can tell you some performances that made a strong impression on me. I remember all the mise-en-scenes, I remember the interpretation of the roles, the plasticity of the same Olivier in Othello. Just as we all remember Chaplin’s plasticity, his cane, bowler hat, gait.

There were Chaplin competitions, where Chaplin himself took eighth place.

That is, I love this kind of theater. And that’s why I’m reaching, perhaps, to the limit when I say that I don’t see much difference in the work of a choreographer and in the work of a director. Only a good choreographer is listened to, while dramatic artists have endless discussions with the director. Is this something

fashionable - I don’t understand. They unquestioningly give themselves into their hands in television, radio, and cinema. But this is where they can finally unwind, argue, discuss, talk all the time about collective creativity and so on - this is in the theater. So, they are taking revenge. It’s like in the wonderful film “Orchestra Rehearsal” by Fellini, there is a constant struggle between the conductor and the orchestra. The orchestra constantly provokes the conductor, tests his strength, and the conductor seeks and tries to put the orchestra in its place, testing the level of the orchestra. This is a mutual examination of each other. This is what always happens when an actor and a director meet - this is the happening, the game. But up to a certain limit. Because someone has to take the conductor's baton and start conducting.

“Good man...” had a huge resonance. And everyone reached out. Poets and writers came. We managed to play “The Good Man...”, despite the department’s ban, both in the House of Cinema, in the House of Writers, and among physicists in Dubna. They played it five times at the Vakhtangov Theater. We were allowed because the play was such a success, and besides, my classmate and old friend from school; even at the Second Moscow Art Theater, Isai Spektor was the commercial director of the theater, a practical person, and the Vakhtangov Theater was on tour at that time. And the doors were broken down there. And I was sent to play a traveling play, although there was another performer in it. And I didn’t see how these performances went on the Vakhtangov stage. I came to the last one, I think. And only then they told me that Mikoyan was there and said the phrase: “Oh! This is not an educational performance, this is not a student performance. It will be a theater, and a very unique one.” So you see, the Politburo member figured it out.

For the first time in my life, I very precisely formulated to the Department of Culture my thirteen points of what I needed in order for the theater to be created. I understood that the old theater would grind me down, turn me into minced meat - there would be nothing left. I'll get bogged down in the squabbles of the old troupe. I understood that everything had to be done all over again, starting from scratch. And so I gave them these points, and they thought for a long time whether to approve me or not.

I brought students from this course with me... Even two informers who wrote about me that I was destroying Stanislavsky’s system. And not because I'm so noble. I just didn't want to introduce two artists again and waste time. The students were very different. This was not the idyll that the teacher and good students rehearse in ecstasy.

How did I stage “The Good Man...”? - I literally hammered the rhythm in with a crutch, because I tore the ligaments in my leg and couldn’t run and show, and I worked with a crutch. It was very difficult to understand the form. The students felt that something was wrong, that is, they were not taught the way I worked with them.

Having received permission to take “The Good Man...” and ten people from the course to the theater, I realized what I needed. I removed the entire old repertoire, leaving only Priestley one play, because she more or less did the box office, although I didn’t like the play.

We couldn’t play “The Good Man...” every day, although it sold out. And so I immediately launched two works - first the unsuccessful “Hero of Our Time”, then I realized that he was not helping me - and immediately launched “Anti-Worlds” and “Ten Days...”.

At that time I was interested in Andrei Voznesensky and his poems and began to make “Anti-Worlds” as a poetic performance, which then ran for a very long time. And then I was pleased with the Moscow audience. Firstly, many people told me that spectators would not come to Taganka, but they did. He came to “Good...”, he came to “Fallen. ..”, he came to “Ten Days...”, he came to “Antiworlds”. And thus I gained time. The Soviet authorities always give at least a year... once they appointed, they left them alone for a year. They just had such rhythms of life that let him work for a couple of years, and then we’ll see. And somehow I turned around very quickly. In a year I passed the rapids and received the repertoire: “Good ...”, “Ten days ...”, “Anti-Worlds”, after a long struggle “Fallen. .." remained in the repertoire - already four performances, and on

I could lean on them. True, I didn’t think that they would start working on me so quickly. Already “Ten days...” the authorities accepted this way... even though it was a revolution, the fifth or tenth, but with displeasure. But they were still rejected by success - like a revolutionary theme and such success. Well, the press... Pravda scolded, but, in general, approved. And only then they began, scolding the “Master,” to say: “How could the man who staged “Ten Days...” - and so it was with me all the time - how could this man who staged this and that, stage this mess?" - “House...”, suppose, or Mayakovsky and so on.

R.S. You see, my son, those rulers still gave dad a year to promote him, but Tsar Boris changes his prime ministers four times in one year!

Without date.

When everything was ready and it was possible to schedule a premiere, it somehow coincided that it was Lenin’s birthday, and the next one was Shakespeare’s birthday, our day... And I began to proclaim that only thanks to the 20th Congress could such a theater appear. But before the 20th Congress - no. And when they began to forget the 20th Congress, I found myself without a life preserver and began to drown.

But he didn’t drown completely. And I agree with the way Pyotr Leonidovich Kapitsa explained it: “I was very worried about your fate, Yuri Petrovich, until I realized that you were Kuzkin. And when I realized that you were, after all, Kuzkin to some extent, I stopped worrying.”

They had a golden wedding, and there was such a very elite audience, scientists, academicians, and everyone said something so solemn - a golden wedding, Anna Alekseevna was sitting with Pyotr Leonidovich, and I brought a golden poster of “The Master and Margarita” - in the same place A poster was made by chapter, and I gave a commentary about Pyotr Leonidovich for each chapter.

I also needed to make some kind of speech, and I said that it was not surprising that I was Kuzkin, but that Pyotr Leonidovich had to be Kuzkin in this country in order to survive, it was surprising. Anna Alekseevna was very offended:

How can you, Yuri Petrovich, call Pyotr Leonidovich Kuzkin?

And suddenly Pyotr Leonidovich stood up and said:

Be quiet, little rat (He always called her that.) Yes, Yuri Petrovich, you’re right, I’m Kuzkin too.

P.S. Kuzkin is the hero of B. Mozhaev’s wonderful story, something like a seamstress in the Russian style.

The legendary performance from which the history of the Taganka Theater began, and which laid the foundation for the signature Taganka style: direct appeal to the audience, conventional action, detachment from the image, “live” music and zongs - short rhythmic songs that you want to sing along with.

The plot of the play is conveyed in a few words. The gods who descended to earth are looking for at least one good person. But, as it turns out, even in the soul of a good person evil exists and periodically gains the upper hand. These deep and serious thoughts are presented in a light, elegant, and sometimes satirical form.

The plot of Bertolt Brecht's play was based on the duality of our material world: good impulses turn into cruel acts, the desire to do good causes pain, the “wrath of fate,” as T. Mann put it, becomes “far-sighted kindness.” Yes, the gods present Shen Te with a gift, but a good person must pay for it with awareness of the truth about the world order and mental suffering, the need to be tough and sometimes cruel in order to survive and give others the opportunity to live. Shen Te is a product of the world of duality, for her there is no other way but to live according to its laws, she does not have the strength to break the rules of the game. This is where the ironic and condescending attitude of the gods towards her comes from, this is where their demand for “regulations” for the appearance of the “shadow” hypostasis of Shen Te - Shui Ta’s cousin - comes from.

What conclusion should the viewer draw from Brecht's parable play? The world is dual and, therefore, cruelty must be taken for granted? Is the person left with suffering and pessimism? No. Bertolt Brecht, Yuri Lyubimov and the actors of the Taganka Theater suggest thinking and understanding that only reason and strict control over the manifestations of one’s “shadow”, cruel nature will help maintain the balance between good and evil. Reason and intellect are the only weapons of man in the world of duality. This is the call of the gods and the declaration of the author.

The parable play about the need to affirm goodness through the power of reason will be modern and timely as long as the material world exists. That is why for almost 50 years the performance has not left the stage, combining the theater of thought of B. Brecht and the theater of form of Yu. Lyubimov, which has become the hallmark of the Taganka Theater.

Director - Yuri Lyubimov

Music - Boris Khmelnitsky, Anatoly Vasiliev

The actors performing in the performance are:

Maria Matveeva, Alexey Grabbe, Anatoly Vasiliev, Galina Trifonova, Ivan Ryzhikov, Larisa Maslova, Dmitry Vysotsky, Vladislav Malenko, Timur Badalbeyli, Anastasia Kolpikova, Tatyana Sidorenko, Felix Antipov, Polina Nechitailo, Sergey Trifonov, Yulia Kuvarzina and others.

The duration of the performance is 2 hours 45 minutes.

I made a post from pieces, excerpts from books and articles. When you put the puzzles of text and video together, I hope that you will feel the atmosphere of the theater, or rather of one very interesting performance, this is exactly what I wanted to express in my post:

During Brecht's lifetime, his relationship with the Soviet theater was, to put it mildly, not particularly successful. The main reasons were the official theater’s ideological rejection of Brecht’s artistic quest, as well as the paradoxical figure of Brecht, who greatly irritated the authorities. The dislike was mutual. On the one hand, in the 1920s–1950s, domestic theaters hardly staged Brecht’s plays. On the other hand, the German playwright’s own acquaintance with Soviet theatrical practice more than once plunged him into despondency.

Brecht found himself in the Soviet chalk circle. Only at the turn of the 1950s and 1960s, after his death, rare productions of his plays appeared. Among the first and most significant it should be mentioned: “The Dreams of Simone Machar” at the Moscow Theater. M. Ermolova, directed by Anatoly Efros (1959); “Mother Courage and Her Children” at the Moscow Academic Theater. Vl. Mayakovsky (production by Maxim Strauch) (1960); “The Good Man from Szechwan” at the Leningrad Academic Theater. Pushkin (1962, director – Rafail Suslovich); “The Career of Arturo Ui” at the Leningrad Bolshoi Drama Theater. Gorky (1963, director – Erwin Axer).

However, these and some other Brecht Thaw productions pale in comparison to the significance of one educational student performance. In 1963, young Vakhtangov students, third (!) year students of the B.V. Theater School. Shchukin, presented the fruit of their six-month work - the play “The Good Man from Szechwan” staged by the course teacher Yuri Lyubimov.

His success was stunning. In the last year of the thaw, in the small hall of the Shchukin school on Old Arbat (later it was played on other stage venues in Moscow), the performance was watched by I. Erenburg, K. Simonov, A. Voznesensky, E. Evtushenko, B. Okudzhava, B. Akhmadulina, V. Aksenov, Y. Trifonov, A. Galich, O. Efremov, M. Plisetskaya, R. Shchedrin... It would seem that another student production was perceived by the Moscow public not only as a theatrical breakthrough, but also as a kind of social manifesto , a banner that promised changing times. It is very symptomatic that a year later, on April 23, 1964, Lyubimov’s “The Good Man from Szechwan” will open a new theater - the Taganka Theater, where it continues to this day.
(Excerpt from an article about Brecht’s work.)

Moscow is an amazing city - everyone there knows everything by rumors. Rumors spread that some interesting performance was being prepared. And since everyone is bored, and diplomats too, if something is interesting, it means there will be a scandal. As my late friend Erdman said, “if there is no scandal around a theater, then it is not a theater.” So, in this sense, he was a prophet in relation to me. And so it was. Well, it’s boring, and everyone wants to come and see, and they know that if it’s interesting, it will be closed. Therefore, it took a long time for the performance to begin; the audience rushed into the hall. These diplomats sat down on the floor in the passage, a fireman ran in, a pale director, the rector of the school, said that “he won’t allow it, because the hall might collapse.” In the hall, where there are seats for two hundred and forty people, there are about four hundred sitting - in general, there was a complete scandal. I stood with a flashlight - the electrics there were very bad, and I myself stood and moved the flashlight. Brecht's portrait was highlighted in the right places. And I kept driving this lantern and shouting:

For God's sake, let the performance continue, what are you doing, because they will close the performance, no one will see it! Why are you stomping around, don’t you understand where you live, you idiots!

And yet I calmed them down. But, of course, everything was recorded and reported. Well, they closed it after that.
Excerpt from Yuri Lyubimov's book "Stories of an Old Talker"

"The Good Man from Sichuan" Bertolt Brecht (German: Der gute Mensch von Sezuan) · 1940
Brief summary of the play (for those who don’t know what it’s all about)))

The main city of Sichuan Province, which summarizes all the places on the globe and any time in which man exploits man, is the place and time of the play.

Prologue. For two millennia now the cry has not stopped: this cannot continue! No one in this world is able to be kind! And the concerned gods decreed: the world can remain as it is if there are enough people capable of living a life worthy of a person. And to check this, the three most prominent gods descend to earth. Perhaps the water-carrier Wang, who was the first to meet them and treat them to water (by the way, he is the only one in Sichuan who knows that they are gods), is a worthy person? But his mug, the gods noticed, had a double bottom. The good water-carrier is a swindler! The simplest test of the first virtue - hospitality - upsets them: in none of the rich houses: neither Mr. Fo, nor Mr. Chen, nor the widow Su - can Wang find lodging for them for the night. There is only one thing left: turn to the prostitute Shen De, because she cannot refuse anyone. And the gods spend the night with the only kind person, and the next morning, having said goodbye, they leave Shen De an order to remain just as kind, as well as a good payment for the night: after all, how can one be kind when everything is so expensive!

I. The gods left Shen De a thousand silver dollars, and she bought herself a small tobacco shop with them. But how many people in need of help turn out to be next to those who were lucky: the former owner of the shop and the previous owners of Shen De - husband and wife, her lame brother and pregnant daughter-in-law, nephew and niece, old grandfather and boy - and everyone needs a roof over their heads and food. “The little boat of salvation / Immediately goes to the bottom. / After all, too many drowning people / Grabbed the sides greedily.”

And then the carpenter demands one hundred silver dollars, which the previous owner did not pay him for the shelves, and the landlady needs recommendations and a guarantee for the not very respectable Shen De. “My cousin will vouch for me,” she says. “And he will pay for the shelves.”

II. And the next morning, Shoi Da, Shen De’s cousin, appears in the tobacco shop. Having decisively driven away the unlucky relatives, skillfully forcing the carpenter to take only twenty silver dollars, prudently making friends with the policeman, he settles the affairs of his too kind cousin.

III. And in the evening, in the city park, Shen De meets the unemployed pilot Sun. A pilot without a plane, a postal pilot without mail. What in the world should he do, even if he read all the books about flying in Beijing school, even if he knows how to land a plane, as if it were his own ass? He is like a crane with a broken wing and has nothing to do on earth. The rope is at the ready, and there are as many trees as you like in the park. But Shen De does not allow him to hang himself. To live without hope is to do evil. The song of the water carrier selling water during the rain is hopeless: “Thunder rumbles and rain pours, / Well, I sell water, / But the water is not sold / And it is not drunk at all. / I shout: “Buy water!” / But no one buys. / Nothing gets into my pocket for this water! / Buy some water, dogs!”

And Shen De buys a mug of water for his beloved Yang Song.

Vladimir Vysotsky and Zinaida Slavina in the play “The Good Man from Szechwan”. 1978

IV. Returning after a night spent with her beloved, Shen De sees for the first time the morning city, cheerful and giving joy. People are kind today. The old carpet merchants from the shop opposite give dear Shen De a loan of two hundred silver dollars - this will be enough to pay the landlady for six months. Nothing is difficult for a person who loves and hopes. And when Sun’s mother Mrs. Yang says that for the huge sum of five hundred silver dollars her son was promised a place, she happily gives her the money she received from the old people. But where to get another three hundred? There is only one way out - turn to Shoy Da. Yes, he is too cruel and cunning. But a pilot must fly!

Sideshows. Shen De enters, holding a mask and a Shoi Da costume in his hands, and sings “The Song about the Helplessness of Gods and Good People”: “The good ones in our country / cannot remain good. / To reach the cup with a spoon, / You need cruelty. / The good are helpless, and the gods are powerless. / Why don’t the gods declare there, in the ether, / That it’s time to give all the good and the good / The opportunity to live in a good, kind world?”

V. Smart and prudent Shoi Da, whose eyes are not blinded by love, sees deception. Yang Song is not afraid of cruelty and meanness: let the place promised to him be someone else’s, and the pilot who will be fired from it has a large family, let Shen De part with the shop, except for which she has nothing, and the old people will lose their two hundred dollars and lose their home , - just to achieve his goal. This cannot be trusted, and Shoi Da seeks support in a rich barber who is ready to marry Shen De. But the mind is powerless where love operates, and Shen De leaves with Sun: “I want to leave with the one I love, / I don’t want to think about whether it’s good. / I don't want to know if he loves me. / I want to leave with the one I love.”

VI. In a small cheap restaurant in the suburbs, preparations are being made for the wedding of Yang Song and Shen De. The bride in a wedding dress, the groom in a tuxedo. But the ceremony still does not begin, and the boss looks at his watch - the groom and his mother are waiting for Shoi Da, who should bring three hundred silver dollars. Yang Song sings “The Song of Saint Never’s Day”: “On this day evil is taken by the throat, / On this day all the poor are lucky, / Both the owner and the farmhand / Walk together to the tavern / On Saint Never’s day / The skinny one drinks at the fat one’s house.” . / We can’t wait any longer. / That’s why they should give us, / People of hard work, / The Day of Saint Never, / The Day of Saint Never, / The Day when we will rest.”

“He will never come again,” says Mrs. Yang. Three are sitting, and two of them are looking at the door.

VII. Shen De's meager belongings were on the cart near the tobacco shop - the shop had to be sold in order to repay the debt to the old people. The barber Shu Fu is ready to help: he will give his barracks to the poor people whom Shen De helps (you can’t keep goods there anyway - it’s too damp), and write a check. And Shen De is happy: she felt in herself a future son - a pilot, “a new conqueror / Of inaccessible mountains and unknown regions!” But how to protect him from the cruelty of this world? She sees the carpenter's little son looking for food in a garbage can, and swears that she will not rest until she saves her son, at least him alone. It's time to turn into a cousin again.

Mr. Shoi Da announces to those gathered that his cousin will not leave them without help in the future, but from now on the distribution of food without reciprocal services will stop, and those who agree to work for Shen De will live in the houses of Mr. Shu Fu.

VIII. The tobacco factory that Shoi Da set up in the barracks employs men, women and children. The taskmaster - and cruel - here is Yang Song: he is not at all saddened by the change in fate and shows that he is ready to do anything for the sake of the interests of the company. But where is Shen De? Where is the good man? Where is she who many months ago, on a rainy day, in a moment of joy, bought a mug of water from the water carrier? Where is she and her unborn child that she told the water-carrier about? And Sun would also like to know this: if his ex-fiancee was pregnant, then he, as the father of the child, can claim the position of owner. And here, by the way, is her dress in the knot. Didn't a cruel cousin kill the unfortunate woman? The police come to the house. Mr. Scheu Da will have to appear in court.

X. In the courtroom, Shen De's friends (water carrier Wang, the old couple, grandfather and niece) and Shoi Da's partners (Mr. Shu Fu and the landlady) are waiting for the hearing to begin. At the sight of the judges entering the hall, Shoi Da faints - these are gods. The gods are by no means omniscient: under the mask and costume of Shoi Da, they do not recognize Shen De. And only when, unable to withstand the accusations of the good and the intercession of the evil, Shoi Da takes off his mask and tears off his clothes, the gods see with horror that their mission has failed: their good man and the evil and callous Shoi Da are one person. It’s impossible in this world to be kind to others and at the same time to yourself, you can’t save others and not destroy yourself, you can’t make everyone happy and yourself together with everyone! But the gods have no time to understand such complexities. Is it really possible to abandon the commandments? No never! Recognize that the world needs to change? How? By whom? No, everything is okay. And they reassure people: “Shen De did not die, she was only hidden. There remains a good person among you.” And to Shen De’s desperate cry: “But I need a cousin,” they hastily answer: “Just not too often!” And while Shen De desperately stretches out his hands to them, they, smiling and nodding, disappear above.

Epilogue. The actor’s final monologue before the audience: “Oh, my honorable audience! The ending is unimportant. I know this. / In our hands, the most beautiful fairy tale suddenly received a bitter denouement. / The curtain is down, and we stand in confusion - the questions have not been resolved. / So what's the deal? We are not looking for benefits, / And that means there must be some sure way out? / You can’t imagine what for money! Another hero? What if the world is different? / Or maybe other gods are needed here? Or no gods at all? I am silent in alarm. / So help us! Correct the trouble - direct your thought and mind here. / Try to find good ways for good. / Bad ending - discarded in advance. / He must, must, must be good!”

Retold by T. A. Voznesenskaya.

Notes from an amateur.

No. 21. Taganka Theater. The Good Man from Szechwan (Bertold Brecht). Dir. Yuri Lyubimov.

Black and white classic.

A Good Man from Szechwan is Lyubimov’s graduation performance, which became a symbol of the Taganka Theater, with which he came to the theater back in 1964 as artistic director. Thus, the production, in which Vladimir Vysotsky and Valery Zolotukhin were involved, is more than 50 years old. The fascination with Bertolt Brecht and his ideas of “epic theater” was reflected not only in a specific performance, but also in the theater as a whole. The viewer is greeted by an empty black box of an open stage, without a curtain, without decorations. But in this small, brown hall, filled with elderly spectators, it is soft and cozy.

The action begins very cheerfully, the actors play lively, energetically, self-confidently, if not arrogantly. What happens grabs you from the first seconds and doesn’t let go until the end of the performance. The emphasis is on the satirical portrayal of the characters, each of whom is simple, but well developed and self-sufficient. The actors focus on portraying the most characteristic features of their characters, behaving straightforwardly and predictably, there are no omissions or hints. Everything is clear, clear and understandable.

The director outlines the events with a dotted line; he dwells only on the most significant episodes. You can feel a firm, confident hand in everything, telling the story quite dryly but tightly. There is nothing superfluous, only the most important thing, but in this laconicism the acting and their impact on the viewer are even more clearly demonstrated. Events happen faster, there are fewer lyrical digressions, and not so many zongs. As a result, coupled with a lot of humor, the performance looks like a monolith in one go. The honored director, wise from life and experience, but not losing all his irony, from the height of his years, leads the story with a firm and skillful hand. Everything is straightforward, simple and clear.

Shen Te is a very kind, but too simple-minded girl, whom every rogue immediately climbs onto her neck. Her alter ego, “cousin” Shui Ta, on the contrary, sees right through everyone, knows what she wants and goes straight for it, only chips fly. Idle beggars, “the scum of the block”, directing all their abilities to ruin their benefactress, are evil here, but charming in their comic originality, their expressive antics are funny. For Lyubimov, the whole logic of the development of events pushes towards the need for the appearance of a “cousin” to save the situation. Shen Te has no painful torment here; she turns into Shui Ta forcedly and inevitably. He had to appear, it couldn’t have been any other way.

The performance is designed in full accordance with the Brechtian “alienation effect”, the decorations are practically absent, and those that exist are completely conventional - in the structure of metal rods you recognize wood, and the tobacco shop is recreated with the help of a table and the inscription “Tobacco”. The inscription is a frequently used technique in “epic theater.” If a modest wedding takes place in a cheap restaurant, then the banner will say “Cheap Restaurant.” Everything else is up to the actors, who create a unique, fiery and slightly hooligan style and special energy. What is happening captivates and arouses genuine interest. Another important element of the epic theater is music; the zongs that accompany and permeate the performance are performed here with a guitar and button accordion, but this, coupled with the signature acting style and aura of Taganka, looks organic. You can feel a special collective acting spirit here, this is one “gang”.

Here the paradoxes laid down by the author appear - the world is structured in such a way that in certain situations, following your “heart”, remaining kind and good for everyone, in the end you can destroy yourself. To do useful things in our world, sometimes you have to do dirty work, be ruthless and tough, understand the true meaning of actions and know the value of things. The gods themselves “approve” the appearance of Shui Ta, but making the reservation that no more than “once a month.” Another paradox is that the only kind person in Sichuan turned out to be a prostitute; other people stopped being kind a long time ago. This can be seen as a kind of hint; the author notes where the modern cynical world places decent people and how it treats them. Kindness is a luxury in the human world, a companion to poverty and a heavy burden, and you cannot be rich and successful if you are not evil.

If you compare the productions of Lyubimov and Butusov, it becomes obvious who drew inspiration from whom. Some of Butusov’s characters simply completely copy Lyubimov’s characters: a cheerful, funny old woman with a squeaky voice, a fashionable landlady Mi Tzi, swaying her hips and smoking cigarettes through a long cigarette holder. The collective image of arrogant, treacherous hangers-on is also taken from Taganka. Lyubimov’s three Gods, unlike Butusov’s, are shown in detail, with attention and love. The gods are handsome, fair and charming and too similar to people with their weaknesses: they fortify themselves with kefir and grumble while playing dominoes. Also, quite humanly, they argue, doubt, not knowing what to do. Every episode with them is bright and memorable.

If we compare performances with clothes, then the performance from Taganka looks like a simple peasant shirt with a belt made of coarse fabric. Butusov's brainchild is a ceremonial uniform with shiny copper buttons, a sword and aiguillettes. Butusov captivates with his complex, virtuoso form and deepening in particular, while Lyubimov captivates with his simple, pure, but perfect content. Taganka is an old black and white classic masterpiece that has stood the test of time. The Pushkin Theater is a modern spectacular remake, with stars, a big budget and in 3D format.

The main city of Sichuan Province, which summarizes all the places on the globe and any time in which man exploits man, is the place and time of the play.

Prologue. For two millennia now the cry has not stopped: this cannot continue! No one in this world is able to be kind! And the concerned gods decreed: the world can remain as it is if there are enough people capable of living a life worthy of a person. And to check this, the three most prominent gods descend to earth. Perhaps the water-carrier Wang, who was the first to meet them and treat them to water (by the way, he is the only one in Sichuan who knows that they are gods), is a worthy person? But his mug, the gods noticed, had a double bottom. The good water-carrier is a swindler! The simplest test of the first virtue - hospitality - upsets them: in none of the rich houses: neither Mr. Fo, nor Mr. Chen, nor the widow Su - can Wang find lodging for them for the night. There is only one thing left: turn to the prostitute Shen De, because she cannot refuse anyone. And the gods spend the night with the only kind person, and the next morning, having said goodbye, they leave Shen De an order to remain just as kind, as well as a good payment for the night: after all, how can one be kind when everything is so expensive!

I. The gods left Shen De a thousand silver dollars, and she bought herself a small tobacco shop with them. But how many people in need of help turn out to be next to those who were lucky: the former owner of the shop and the previous owners of Shen De - husband and wife, her lame brother and pregnant daughter-in-law, nephew and niece, old grandfather and boy - and everyone needs a roof over their heads and food. “The little boat of salvation / Immediately goes to the bottom. / After all, too many drowning people / Grabbed the sides greedily.”

And then the carpenter demands one hundred silver dollars, which the previous owner did not pay him for the shelves, and the landlady needs recommendations and a guarantee for the not very respectable Shen De. “My cousin will vouch for me,” she says. “And he will pay for the shelves.”

II. And the next morning, Shoi Da, Shen De’s cousin, appears in the tobacco shop. Having decisively driven away the unlucky relatives, skillfully forcing the carpenter to take only twenty silver dollars, prudently making friends with the policeman, he settles the affairs of his too kind cousin.

III. And in the evening, in the city park, Shen De meets the unemployed pilot Sun. A pilot without a plane, a postal pilot without mail. What in the world should he do, even if he read all the books about flying in Beijing school, even if he knows how to land a plane, as if it were his own ass? He is like a crane with a broken wing and has nothing to do on earth. The rope is at the ready, and there are as many trees as you like in the park. But Shen De does not allow him to hang himself. To live without hope is to do evil. The song of the water carrier selling water during the rain is hopeless: “Thunder rumbles and rain pours, / Well, I sell water, / But the water is not sold / And it is not drunk at all. / I shout: “Buy water!” / But no one buys. / Nothing gets into my pocket for this water! / Buy some water, dogs!”

And Shen De buys a mug of water for his beloved Yang Song.

IV. Returning after a night spent with her beloved, Shen De sees for the first time the morning city, cheerful and giving joy. People are kind today. The old carpet merchants from the shop opposite give dear Shen De a loan of two hundred silver dollars - this will be enough to pay the landlady for six months. Nothing is difficult for a person who loves and hopes. And when Sun’s mother Mrs. Yang says that for the huge sum of five hundred silver dollars her son was promised a place, she happily gives her the money she received from the old people. But where to get another three hundred? There is only one way out - turn to Shoy Da. Yes, he is too cruel and cunning. But a pilot must fly!

Sideshows. Shen De enters, holding a mask and a Shoi Da costume in his hands, and sings “The Song about the Helplessness of Gods and Good People”: “The good ones in our country / cannot remain good. / To reach the cup with a spoon, / You need cruelty. / The good are helpless, and the gods are powerless. / Why don’t the gods declare there, in the ether, / That it’s time to give all the good and the good / The opportunity to live in a good, kind world?”

V. Smart and prudent Shoi Da, whose eyes are not blinded by love, sees deception. Yang Song is not afraid of cruelty and meanness: let the place promised to him be someone else’s, and the pilot who will be fired from it has a large family, let Shen De part with the shop, except for which she has nothing, and the old people will lose their two hundred dollars and lose their home , - just to achieve his goal. This cannot be trusted, and Shoi Da seeks support in a rich barber who is ready to marry Shen De. But the mind is powerless where love operates, and Shen De leaves with Sun: “I want to leave with the one I love, / I don’t want to think about whether it’s good. / I don't want to know if he loves me. / I want to leave with the one I love.”

VI. In a small cheap restaurant in the suburbs, preparations are being made for the wedding of Yang Song and Shen De. The bride in a wedding dress, the groom in a tuxedo. But the ceremony still does not begin, and the boss looks at his watch - the groom and his mother are waiting for Shoi Da, who should bring three hundred silver dollars. Yang Song sings “The Song of Saint Never’s Day”: “On this day evil is taken by the throat, / On this day all the poor are lucky, / Both the owner and the farmhand / Walk together to the tavern / On Saint Never’s day / The skinny one drinks at the fat one’s house.” . / We can’t wait any longer. / That’s why they should give us, / People of hard work, / The Day of Saint Never, / The Day of Saint Never, / The Day when we will rest.”

“He will never come again,” says Mrs. Yang. Three are sitting, and two of them are looking at the door.

VII. Shen De's meager belongings were on the cart near the tobacco shop - the shop had to be sold in order to repay the debt to the old people. The barber Shu Fu is ready to help: he will give his barracks to the poor people whom Shen De helps (you can’t keep goods there anyway - it’s too damp), and write a check. And Shen De is happy: she felt in herself a future son - a pilot, “a new conqueror / Of inaccessible mountains and unknown regions!” But how to protect him from the cruelty of this world? She sees the carpenter's little son looking for food in a garbage can, and swears that she will not rest until she saves her son, at least him alone. It's time to turn into a cousin again.

Mr. Shoi Da announces to those gathered that his cousin will not leave them without help in the future, but from now on the distribution of food without reciprocal services will stop, and those who agree to work for Shen De will live in the houses of Mr. Shu Fu.

VIII. The tobacco factory that Shoi Da set up in the barracks employs men, women and children. The taskmaster - and cruel - here is Yang Song: he is not at all saddened by the change in fate and shows that he is ready to do anything for the sake of the interests of the company. But where is Shen De? Where is the good man? Where is she who many months ago, on a rainy day, in a moment of joy, bought a mug of water from the water carrier? Where is she and her unborn child that she told the water-carrier about? And Sun would also like to know this: if his ex-fiancee was pregnant, then he, as the father of the child, can claim the position of owner. And here, by the way, is her dress in the knot. Didn't a cruel cousin kill the unfortunate woman? The police come to the house. Mr. Scheu Da will have to appear in court.

IX. In the courtroom, Shen De's friends (water carrier Wang, the old couple, grandfather and niece) and Shoi Da's partners (Mr. Shu Fu and the landlady) are waiting for the hearing to begin. At the sight of the judges entering the hall, Shoi Da faints - these are gods. The gods are by no means omniscient: under the mask and costume of Shoi Da, they do not recognize Shen De. And only when, unable to withstand the accusations of the good and the intercession of the evil, Shoi Da takes off his mask and tears off his clothes, the gods see with horror that their mission has failed: their good man and the evil and callous Shoi Da are one person. It’s impossible in this world to be kind to others and at the same time to yourself, you can’t save others and not destroy yourself, you can’t make everyone happy and yourself together with everyone! But the gods have no time to understand such complexities. Is it really possible to abandon the commandments? No never! Recognize that the world needs to change? How? By whom? No, everything is okay. And they reassure people: “Shen De did not die, she was only hidden. There remains a good person among you.” And to Shen De’s desperate cry: “But I need a cousin,” they hastily answer: “Just not too often!” And while Shen De desperately stretches out his hands to them, they, smiling and nodding, disappear above.

Epilogue. The actor’s final monologue before the audience: “Oh, my honorable audience! The ending is unimportant. I know this. / In our hands, the most beautiful fairy tale suddenly received a bitter denouement. / The curtain is down, and we stand in confusion - the questions have not been resolved. / So what's the deal? We are not looking for benefits, / And that means there must be some sure way out? / You can’t imagine what for money! Another hero? What if the world is different? / Or maybe other gods are needed here? Or no gods at all? I am silent in alarm. / So help us! Correct the trouble - direct your thought and mind here. / Try to find good ways for good. / Bad ending - discarded in advance. / He must, must, must be good!”

Retold T. A. Voznesenskaya.