As opening scenes go, this one’s quite arresting: a naked man runs through the theatre onto the stage and masturbates to the point of orgasm – those of a nervous disposition will be heartened to learn that this is done with the actor’s back to the audience. It’s an almost comically attention-grabbing start for what turns out to be a well-written piece with a powerful central performance.
Based loosely on the life and work of Jean Genet, Thief gives a potted biography of the highs and lows – though mostly the lows – of its protagonist’s life. The nameless character who simply calls himself Sailor is a prostitute whose only virtues are ‘rent, theft and betrayal‘. The mother of a prostitute, he commits his first murder at the age of 13, is sent to prison at 15 where he is raped, and soon finds himself forced into a male brothel owned by a sadistic, murderous pimp.
Liam Rudden‘s play is true to Genet in finding beauty in depravity and uncovering the poetry found in ‘the sharp stench of the latrines’. Sailor is presented as neither likeable or unlikeable, simply a terrible force of nature. He’s a dangerous psychopath, a man who enjoys violence and pain – his own as much as others’ – yet he’s also aware of the forces which moulded him. Although he refuses the status of victim, he recognises the harm inflicted upon him at the hands of people even more damaged than himself.
As in any one-man play the evening depends on the performance. Matt Robertson is absolutely commanding as Sailor; at some points he seems to project a manic energy merely through a dangerous glint in his eye. When he throws out questions to members of the audience, it’s almost unsettling. It’s been a while since I’ve seen a play in which no one watching coughed; at times I’m not sure people even dared to breathe.
Coming in at just under an hour, Thief is a short, sharp shock and a vivid portrait of a life lived without compromise.
Continues at the Marlborough, Princes Street, until Sunday 18.
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