I loved it and the audience were vocal in their adoration.

In reviewing the September 9th premiere performance of A Fine Balance at Crow’s Theatre, I want to look at what’s so special about Anosh Irani’s new adaptation & the production directed by Chris Abraham. You must go see this wonderful show.

I read Rohinton Mistry’s 1995 novel over the past month, a McClelland & Stewart hard cover from University of Toronto Library that’s 748 pages long. While I love to say that I couldn’t put it down, it’s such a heavy volume that it was always a relief to set the big book down, especially when I was juggling it on my elliptical trainer. But Mistry’s story-telling grabbed me right away.

One can find reviews of an earlier adaptation of Mistry’s novel adapted by Sudha Bhuchar and Kristine Landon -Smith for Hampstead Theatre in 2006, revived again in 2007. From what I gather they emphasized the politics of the story. While there’s great enthusiasm over the production, I saw comments that seem to be critical of that earlier adaptation:
1-“the bare bones of Rohinton Mistry’s book, yet it conveys superbly the gist of social and economic misery and the personal hardship“(British Theatre Guide)
or
2-“There is a lot to cram in – the book runs to more than 600 pages – and Kristine Landon-Smith’s production ultimately falls prey to one of the basic pitfalls of adapting a big novel for the stage: it tells the story, covering all the events it can, at the expense of going deeply enough into the characters to engage us fully through those events.” (Financial Times)

One of the reviewers said that the earlier adaptation was two hours long. The new Irani adaptation I saw last night was two hours and 45 minutes, taking us past the three hour mark when we add 15-20 minutes of intermission, although the time flew by on the wings of the production: but more about that below.

One may ask: how long should a stage or cinematic adaptation of a novel be? As I recall my mother liked the longer more detailed adaptation of Pride & Prejudice (where she & so many others eagerly ogled Colin Firth), rather than the shorter cinematic versions. It’s exciting to see that there’s talk of a mini-series of A Fine Balance that I’d eagerly watch, details still TBA.

But I just want to speculate that the newer longer version from Irani, directed by Chris Abraham at Crow’s Theatre likely delves more deeply into the interior lives of the protagonists.

I will try to avoid giving spoilers for anyone seeing the play who hasn’t read the book.

Where the earlier adaptation had more players & characters, Irani zeroes in on the key scenes. We don’t meet Beggarmaster or Avinash (two of my favourite characters from the book) but do hear a little about them. I’m not sure if we even heard about monkey-man but he is one of several peripheral players in the drama who are not really missed.

The central drama revolves around four people. Three of them meet on a train, not realizing that they would soon meet again.

Ishvar (Anand Rajaram) and his nephew Omprakash (Ben Yoganathan) are tailors, hoping to get work from Dina. Maneck (Siddharth Sharma) is a young student who’s on his way to visit her. Maneck is not related to her but as the son of a friend of Dina’s sometimes would call her “Aunty”.

The transformations in all four over the course of many years are what makes this such a spectacular novel, captured wonderfully in this adaptation.

In the book Dina loses her husband in a bicycle accident. She must make a series of adjustments to preserve her precarious independence, depending at times on financial help from her brother Nusswan, bending the rules of her rental, as she employs Ishvar & Om to sew for her.

Om and Ishvar are of a caste once known as “untouchable”. Their place at the bottom of the social hierarchy makes their prospects for happy lives limited, especially when confronted by authority. The more corrupt elements in society, both those working withing the law such as Ibrahim the rent collector or a hired thug (known as a goonda) would have the greatest freedom to prey upon them, people who felt they had no rights.

During the State of Emergency declared by Indira Gandhi, Prime Minister of India in the mid-1970s, the rights of many people were compromised, especially the lowest strata of society.

In the latter part of the play we see their lives violated & nearly destroyed, yet they carry on. We have only a few glimpses of the extreme poverty that is central to the novel, but see enough, especially at the end of the play.

Two members of the creative team deserve a lot of credit for the effectiveness of this production.

Thomas Ryder Payne is sound designer, a title that sometimes includes musical composition, but on this occasion was far more like cinematic foley, sound effects. The sounds made by trains are a key element of this show, although there’s much more one might mention. However I want to speak of the train-sounds alongside the brilliant set design by Michael Gianfrancesco, which had a compulsive energy that frankly scared me a few times, as there’s a part of the set on rails that comes roaring across the stage with some of the scene changes, while the actors scramble out of the way.

I wondered about the rehearsals, when the actors had to learn how to work with the set to keep safe. That’s inevitable when a huge book is being distilled down to two hours and 45 minutes of action, with no time for leisurely movements of parts of the set. Upstage we have Dina’s home, with the door to the outside world stage right where people enter, and incidents taking place outside used the extreme downstage ribbon of real estate. The panorama before us was used with great effectiveness by the cast and director Chris Abraham.

I’ve been reminded of one of the reasons for adaptations, namely the way they show us depths & nuances in a story that we may miss. Berlioz’s Romeo & Juliet shows us different aspects of the story & the characters than that of Prokofiev, different again from that of Gounod. If we only have the original we are missing the dimensions brought to life by a new artist’s understanding. I never expected so much laughter, so much sweetness & comedy particularly from those most oppressed in this society. You may think you know a book or a story, until an adaptation shows it to you in a new way.

I think Irani’s adaptation simplifies the novel beautifully. We have four main characters.

Omprakash and his uncle Ishvar can be seen as the protagonists even though the plot-line makes them victims of violence & corruption. How they choose to respond to their oppression is at least a part of our understanding of the title of the novel. The “Fine Balance” is a response to the precarity of their lives, although in the novel everyone has some challenges finding balance in a precarious world.

As they lead their own lives, Dina (Zorana Sadiq) and Maneck (Siddharth Sharma) observe and respond to Ishvar & Om. Dina is at the centre of the story, a difficult woman when we first meet her, as she negotiates her way through a world that seems determined to take her down. But she shows more and more compassion and kindness as the play goes on. Where Om & Ishvar might be the creatures who illustrate this moral tale (like the Prodigal Son), the key to any sort of parable would be how Dina and Maneck each observe and respond in their own way (like the Prodigal Son’s father). When Dina loses her business she must move in with her brother Nusswan. Maneck goes away for a few years, returning in the novel’s Epilogue set in 1984. While earlier we only saw train travel he’s coming back on a plane. Maneck’s interior dialogue is subtle, hard to discern except from his actions.

I’m not sure whether the adaptation is written with this assumption, but what I saw was that Ben Yoganathan (as Om) and Anand Rajaram (as Ishvar) are called upon to be flamboyant, because of their vulnerable status in the world. When we first see Ishvar extolling the skills of his nephew, he’s over-selling like a street-performer. Ben is at times restrained, sullen & quiet in his uncle’s shadow, careful and restrained, but sometimes becoming almost explosive in his passionate delivery. Ishvar is the one who picks up their spirits, a relentlessly positive voice regardless of what he’s endured. I found their last scene devastatingly beautiful to watch.

Husein Madhavji sparkled in three very different roles in addition to being an Ensemble player. Nusswan is Dina’s brother, overbearing & controlling in his offers of assistance, interrupting her frequently in conversation; I think we’ve all met someone like this. Ibrahim is the corrupt rent-collecter bringing trouble to Dina’s door. Shankar is the crippled beggar protected by his anonymous benefactor Beggarmaster, never knowing the reason for the generosity but relentlessly positive.

Sugith Varughese also displayed remarkable range in his portrayals as well as as being an Ensemble player. Rajaram is himself a bit of a chameleon in the book, a pragmatist changing at least a couple of times in the book, collecting hair and possibly doing something far more sinister. Thakur Dharamsi is a corrupt official involved in sterilization, openly contemptuous of the poor. And in the violent confrontation scene (different from the novel as I recall there are plural goondas or thugs, not a single one as in this adaptation) he wrecks Dina’s sewing business and assaults the sewers.

I’ve said nothing about Chris Abraham so far, the artistic director of Crow’s Theatre, the director of this amazing show, and a participant in the play’s development. A Fine Balance is a well-oiled machine with its heart worn clearly on its sleeve.

It must feel so gratifying to watch a theatre full of people scream their approval for a new show. I understand they’ve extended the run.

Go see A Fine Balance if you can.