The Maias

REVIEW

Surrounded by friends and neighbours who spend their time gossiping or creating intrigues of their own, at the heart of this story, Damian Quinn’s Carlos Da Maia is contrastingly sensible and understated.

But the way in which he seduces a local countess (Helen Bang) and then casts her aside with such easy detachment is indicative of the disdain he feels for the society he lives in.

Set in late 19th century Lisbon, The Maias is a showcase of the hypocritical, snobbish and idle behaviour that epitomises the ruling aristocracy. Fortunately though, it makes for very entertaining viewing, and the contemporary tone and humour helps to propel the audience into the centre of the action.

Malleable of morals and worshipper of all things chic, Mark Philip Compton is impressively unappealing as the slippery Damaso. Vain, cowardly and malicious, Compton savours his character’s repulsiveness, putting on a performance that is as enjoyable as Damaso is hideous.

The central doomed love story provides a sharp contrast to the frivolity, but a more thorough examination of the plight of a fallen woman would have been welcomed. However, Alice de Sousa projects the gentle melancholy of Maria Eduarda brilliantly. Admirable too is Hugh Hemmings as Afonso Da Maia, who brings a regal gravity to his role as head of the family.

Keen to promote the work of a writer Galleon Theatre says is “unfairly neglected”, the production does a great job of highlighting Eca de Queiros’ talents.

— Catherine Usher - The Stage

"Enjoyable adaptation of a great book"

The Galleon Theatre Company delivers a very pleasant theatre evening with its latest version of Eça de Queirós's Os Maias. This adaptation is well-rounded, the staging pleasing and clever and the actors' performances emotional and persuasive.

Obviously, any stage adaptation of a great book like Eça's is deemed to be an arduous task and to feel incomplete. It is therefore ironically an advantage (given Alice de Sousa commitment to promoting Portuguese literature), both for Galleon and the spectators, that The Maias is an uncommon reading.

The Maias is one of the "family sagas" of the late nineteenth century European literary realism. Written around the same age as Les Rougon-Macquart cycle by Zola and I Malavoglia by Verga, it is nonetheless in Die Buddenbrook by Mann that we have its best-known equivalent. As those books, The Maias is the story of the progressive decadence and corruption of a family as the new generations (and society broadly) abandon the old ways and with them their identity and meaning. 

As in Verga, the book is pessimistic but compassionate.As in Zola, the storyline is impregnated with the latest (at the time) psychological and biological theories (Darwinism and hereditarism). 

As in The Buddenbrooks, there is a strong autobiographical component. But the greatness of those books is that they represent the degeneration of a whole social order. So, the aristocrat (but illegitimate) Eça portrays the decadence of aristocracy in a mix of dissolute sexual behaviour, economic inertia and cultural vacuity. 

The Galleon adaptation is brilliant in conveying those aspects of the text while remaining witty and enjoyable. It is, unfortunately but very understandably, less successful in rendering the temporal scope of the saga, as it limits itself to the central events of the book: the origin, development and end of the love story between the (unware) brothers Carlos de Maia (Damian Quinn) and Maria Eduarda (Alice de Sousa). But the script remains solid. 

Carlos is well represented in his duplicity, as a philanthropist doctor and an hedonist who enjoys women and conversation, while Maria Eduarda is not fully convincing as it feels a tad over-acted and lacks some depth. For this reason, the first half of the performance is probably more appealing, as it focuses on Carlos's character and his acquaintances: the Countess Gouvarinho (Helen Bang), the first lover of Carlos and a fittingly dissolute and enticing woman, unable to control her passions and Carlos's best friend, Joao Ega (Peter Rae), who comes across truly as a quick-tempered ever-student, never tired of criticising the very society he is part of and whose leisure he enjoys; and, at the same time, as Carlos's loyal and lucid friend. Finally, Mark Compton as Damaso seems to have jumped out of the book, with his chic-erie, slyness and presumptuousness.

The direction is well crafted with the actors entering and moving around the scene naturally and with rhythm, despite the limited space available, the need to break the action in many scenes and a fixed stage. The costumes merit a special mention as the work done by Richard Cooke for this adaptation is awesome and absolutely fitting. The only downside of the performance is the sound as it starts inappropriately or ends abruptly too many times.

The Galleon has achieved once more its target: staging a good production and promoting Portuguese culture. The viewers will be satisfied after this show and many could decide to read the book afterwards.

— Marco Maresse - Remotegoat

REVIEW

At first I thought The Maias was just a stuffy Portuguese period piece but thankfully it morally descended beyond the depths of a bad soap.

The play follows the download slope of an aristocratic family in Lisbon in 19th century, culminating in an accidental case of incest between lead character Carlos da Maia and Maria Eduardo (Alice de Sousa).

Damian Quinn oozed suave in his portrayal of playboy Carlos, but unfortunately the chemistry between him and his leading lady, Maria (later revealed to be his sister), didn’t quite set the intimate theatre on fire.

This production is a large undertaking for a small production company; 10 actors and surprisingly lavish sets, including some Lisbon-style blue and white tilework and some relatively indulgent costumes. It’s intensely high-brow at times, with wanderings into philosophical investigations, but overall the cast and crew excel at portraying the snooty family unravel.

Mark Philip Compton’s character, Damaso, embodies the plight of the Portuguese ruling class, insisting everything is “chic”, despite his character slowly self destructing.

— Steve Madgwick - East London Advertiser

REVIEW 

IN A NUTSHELL Damaso leads the way in this Portuguese-set romance performance with many high points, writes Catherine Usher.

The Portuguese late 19th century setting may be a little exotic but The Maias quickly demonstrates that snobbery and hypocrisy are qualities familiar to all social groups and eras.

Unfolding in a provincial Lisbon society, save the references to Portuguese culture borrowing from its European neighbours, the story - based on the novel by Eca de Queiros - could just as easily be taking place in Paris or London.

It also has a rather contemporary tone and humour that helps to propel the audience into the centre of the action.

Malleable of morals and worshipper of all things chic, Mark Philip Compton is impressively unappealing as the slippery Damaso.

Vain, cowardly and malicious, Compton's savours his character's repulsiveness, putting on a performance that is as enjoyable as Damaso is hideous.

Helen Bang as the flirtatious Countess Gouvarinho is also a highlight.

Rather ridiculous and divertingly delusional, the countess delivers a masterclass in how not to conduct an affair, badgering, bossing, begging and pleading with the object of her affection.

Damian Quinn as the understated Carlos da Maia provides a sharp contrast to the legions of peacocks, parasites and players and it is understandable that the arrival of such a charming man would cause a stir.

The central love story at the heart of The Maias is the only part of the play that touches on the tragedies that can befall the less fortunate members of society, and consequently it makes the biggest impact.

It's not the romance that grabs the audience members - it's the hardship and traumas the central characters have faced or will face that keep the viewer gripped.

Dressed in white throughout to demonstrate the purity of her nature, if not her virtue, Alice de Sousa brings warmth to the gentle, rather melancholy Maria Eduarda.

Seemingly resigned to the notion that any romantic love will be fleeting, the play's passionate moments are moving yet brief. And the blunt and brutal way the passion is extinguished makes the return to the mundane all the more unsettling.

Galleon Theatre Company has done an impressive job of breathing life into The Maias.

Greater focus on the story's tragic elements would have created a more powerful production, but as it stands, it is flamboyant, intelligent and pleasingly emotional.

— Rob Virtue - Wharf.co.uk

REVIEW

A special feature of the work of Alice de Sousa and the Galleon Theatre Company has been the introduction of Portuguese culture to British audiences as in this adaptation of Queirós's novel The Maias, published in 1888, which many regard as his masterpiece and which is a set book in Portuguese schools.

It is quite an undertaking to adapt - a Portuguese television version took forty episodes! De Sousa's version probably gives us a very filleted version and doesn't really attempt the broad picture of society life in the streets and social clubs of Lisbon that the book apparently presents but concentrates on the core of the story concerning the romantic adventures of Carlos de Maia and some of his immediate friends, though there are hints of the detail as when grandfather Afonso, slightly querulous in Hugh Hemmings' delightful performance, returns home with his cat in its travelling basket.

The literary origins are a little too evident with "do you remember?" or "did I ever tell you?" introducing speeches that fill in the back story or describe events that are not presented on stage. They seem artificial, especially as this novelist is apparently known for his realism, but in some ways this matches the artificiality of some of the characters.

Eça was deliberately satirising the political stagnation and moral decay of a hidebound society and there is a strong contrast here between the more down to earth characters and the affectation of others. Englishman Craft, straight-backed and precise as played by Christopher Peacock, admits to "an obsession with form and a beautiful phrase" and in one scene, when his friends mention Zola, he declares he can't bear naturalism. Even Carlos's politically progressive friend, would-be author Ega, is a poseur in a fur coat (quite why he was wearing only long-johns beneath it I never discovered) and Peter Rae plays him with exaggerated theatricality while Mark Philip Compton makes Damaso, whose jealousy triggers much of the plot, so camp that his womanising begins to seem like a cover, while another friend, poet Alencar, may be too set in his judgements; Barry Clarke plays him as solid and sober.

It is Carlos who seems the most genuine of them. Damian Quinn gives him a natural charm but even he seems spoiled by his wealth, playing at the idea of being a doctor with elaborately decorated consulting rooms that display decadent pictures of French actresses, and entirely self-centred in the way he treats the women he takes as lovers. First there is Countess Guavarinho, all fashionable elegance and strongly played by Helen Bang, whom Carlos abandons for Maria, the mother of a child he is called out to see as a doctor. Alice de Sousa gives a calm gentleness that belies the traumas of her earlier life and makes even more tragic the discovery later that she is in fact Carlos's sister, long thought dead.

Bruce Jamieson's direction does not entirely succeeded in preventing affected behaviour from slipping into actory acting but its many scenes follow each other smoothly, often with interesting details of business on exits that add colour and character and the whole is sumptuously dressed by Richard Cooke and played in an attractive setting of rouched silk and blue and white Portuguese tiles designed by Suneeda Maruthiyil.

In compacting the novel into a play one senses much must have been lost but this production does suggest the width of Eça de Queirós's canvas in its picture of fashionable society, its raw presentation of its characters sexual behaviour and irresponsibility, of attitudes to family and 'honour' and critical glance at both cultural and political attitudes. For dramatic purposes we are perhaps given more details than we sometimes need and it could be compacted yet further to greater effect but, like the company's earlier adaptation of the same writer's Cousin Basilio, it is a taster that may encourage audiences to explore this novelist's work further, since his work is now available in recent English translation.

— Howard Loxton - British Theatre Review

REVIEW

The Maias is widely considered to be the masterpiece of 19th Century Portuguese writer José Maria Eça de Queirós. Alice De Sousa has created an earnest and entertaining adaptation which centres on the complicated affairs of Carlos De Maia and the high jinks of his closest friend João Ega. A simple, well arranged set provides an adequate backdrop for every scene. Luxurious tapered curtains meet striking religious iconography to visually create a conflict that is ever present in the play. Glass decanters, which never rest long on the side table, provide nourishment for moments of distress and celebration. A decorative chaise longue features in almost every dramatic turn. Set designer, Suneeda Maruthiyil has used her expertise to excellent effect in creating such a versatile, yet principally stationary set.

All three women that grace the stage in The Maias are beautiful and aware of their allure. Assertive and self-possessed, they provide ideas for adventure and an art for secrecy that eludes their male counterparts. Countess Gouvarinho (Helen Bang) is flirtatious and of all three is the most impulsive. Maria Eduarda (Alice de Sousa), conspicuously less elaborately dressed than the Countess, is more worldly and enigmatic. But outward appearances are continually challenged in the play, with Miss Sarah’s mischievous nature being well rendered by Providence Maydew and Mark Philip Compton’s Damaso far from the seducer his tales depict. Hugh Hemmings is superb as Afonso Da Maia, the mild mannered moral compass of the play. Though he could be considered as the least flamboyant character, his acerbic wit and mannerisms have the potential to leave a lasting impression long after the pomp and circumstance of others fade.

Religious, geographical, artistic and sexual tensions are all explored in The Maias. Lively criticism of the Catholic Church is most substantially upheld by Ega and he and Alencar, played by an energetic Barry Clarke, continually embody a clash between Realism and Idealism. The older characters are strenuously patriotic while for the younger set the grass is always greener elsewhere. This is especially true of Paris, which is upheld as the capital of fashion, art and everything pleasurable, while Lisbon, seemingly, kills progression and feeling. One thing all the characters are united on is the abandonment of the past; many of them find recollection almost painful.

A kind of paralysis plagues the characters. Actions are imagined and spoken about but not carried through. There features a disappointed duel, abandoned elopements and an emphatic report of the virtues of bullfighting from Alencar, a man one might suspect has never been a spectator at such an event. The written word is the true source of momentum in the play - letters are weapons and instigators of action. If Afonso Da Maia is the moral compass, Vilaça, the Maias family steward, is his social counterpart. Well informed, quietly judgemental and guarded throughout the play, it is he who lends the clearest voice to the position of the family at the climax of the play.

The Maias is an energetic and entertaining production. Though the scripting in the first half of the play seems slightly drawn out, necessary characterisations may have suffered if it were more concise. Expectations and stereotypes are challenged, and wit, which invokes Wildean comparisons at times, abounds at every opportunity.  Alice De Sousa’s adaptation of The Maias will send audience members who are not familiar with Eça de Queirós curiously seeking out the novel that inspired it.

— Vanessa Bunn - ExtraExtra