Mainstage Productions shows RUR at the George Luscombe theatre

Written by Josh Doyle

Inside the intimate space of the George Luscombe theatre, a brightly coloured stage inspired attention. With its bright green walls and orange corridor, it reminded me of an early episode of Star Trek. Large projection screens filled the empty walls, illuminating everything in the scene and complimenting the shows themes.

RUR (Rossum’s Universal Robots) is this year’s Mainstage Production, adapting Karel Capek’s 1921 play that is noted for introducing the term “robot.”

Company actors in beige overalls moved mechanically across the stage, performing all of the menial tasks we humans do, but as robots. Their costumes were not robotic, and at first seemed too modest for the science fiction portrayal I understood this years Mainstage to be. It became clear soon after that these were not robots in the traditional sense, and that costume design was one of the finest points of the play.

Right away, the show thrust itself at the audience. Lead actor Nick Nahwegahbow burst through the corridor generating an energy he retained throughout the night. As the ambitious Domin, leader of the robot production factory, his character’s confidence formed the backbone of the play and helped the others along in making strange events believable.

The play begins with Domin’s romantic seduction of a pretty human rights activist, Helena, played by the talented Kaya Bucholc, as her plans to shut down the factory backfire, and leave her as a permanent resident.

Much of the opening is spent with Domin as he explains the workings of his robot factory, making he and Helena the only two characters on stage after Helena’s conservative servant Emma exits. The audience begs for human presence, and the quirky management staff delivers, providing not only comic relief but human interaction as well. Their unit of four scientists moves about like an excitable gang of 60-year-old school children, all eager to please their new guest and master’s lover.

This all male quartette may have been a masculine overload in other productions, and director Jerrard Smith’s choice to have the majority of these male characters played by women was a good one. Their portrayal of old men had them bouncing about the stage with an energy old men rarely show, and made their scenes the most entertaining of the night.

The play makes a sudden move from light-hearted humor to sullen robot Armageddon, leaving you wondering where things went wrong. Fortunately, strong acting pulls the audience through this confusing moment of script and we come out the other side without much insult.

The real trouble starts when people stop having children, as robots “do everything” and leave no need for human work, or reproduction. This is where the repercussions of paradise are felt.

The play borders on preaching humanity, but gets off without seeming like a lecture by showing instead of telling. The story relays the message, and the movement on stage makes you forget you’re being taught.

RUR’s dark second half hungered for a love story, as Domin and Helena’s distant affair lacked romance. It tries to answer this call in the end, by robots no less, as the twosome’s petty bickering and stubborn love for one another reminds the audience that we need argument and emotion like we need air.

The end of RUR is perhaps tied up too nicely, as the pair of Adam and Eve-like-robots present themselves more or less as human, skipping off to repopulate the earth. The other remaining human, Alquist, the only scientist who did not selfishly pursue the dream of cheap labour through robot slavery, happily accepts these two lovers as a solution to humanity, remarking on their biblical reference before sending them on their way. His performance saves the ending from an emotional vacancy by the robots, which speaks for the whole play. Strong performances by actors and stage crew alike helped the mediocre script, making for a production that is nonetheless well worth seeing for its campus talent.

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