Theatre
In-Nisa Maltin Jafu Kif
Manoel Theatre

Contemporary womanhood is a funny thing. Around the world, women are carving out niches for themselves in what was once a man’s world.

Littered with culturally relevant references and easily recognisable familial situations, this play was not merely a laugh a minute, but a well-executed exploration of the female psyche in a Maltese setting

While this is empowering and positive, they are also strained by the fact that societal expectations of them have not steered away from their traditional roles. They are just expected to extend their capabilities out from what was previously their realm and into the new one, leaving nothing behind and juggling domesticity with a career and motherhood.

Many feel stretched and trapped in their multiple roles. And in a sense, this is still a form of entrapment which holds them back.

The six women in Clare Azzopardi’s In-Nisa Maltin Jafu Kif, staged last weekend, meet in a disused chapel in the middle of nowhere to engage in an activity which strays from the commonly accepted kind of entertainment that stereotypical Maltese women are expected to indulge in. It starts off as a means of escape from their suffocating routines.

All six are mothers of young children, with different backgrounds and back stories, from very divergent walks of life, but brought together by their desire for something different – something out of the ordinary.

The first scene opened with Marija, played by the larger-than-life Magda Van Kuilenburg, in an excellent performance which balanced a very natural attitude with great timing.

Marilù Vella, who played Ruth, was also very adept at giving her submissive character the right amount of self-doubt mixed with bravado, which she needed to help her get round to the idea of planning an illicit rendezvous on sacred ground (which, moreover, was strewn with explosive festa petards).

Indeed these two young actresses’ interpretations were a delight to watch, not only because they showed technical adaptability and versatility but because they managed to get the audience to warm to their characters so effectively.

The other four women were also very well cast by director Marcelle Teuma, in a collective dynamic which kept the pace tight and consistent.

Marta Vella’s openly lesbian Felicienne and Sharon Bezzina’s bitterly unhappy Gaby had dark stories of their own to tell: one a rebel in conflict with her family and a religion which rejected her, and the other, a victim of her husband.

Vella’s great Felicienne was honest, if a bit brusque, while Bezzina’s delicate and slightly unhinged Gaby showed a maturity which this young actress is clearly developing. Both had poignant points to make, but herein lies the charm of this script – it was not a lament but blended the characteristically dark Maltese humour, which is at times visceral and at times farcical, with more intimate, introspective moments.

Azzopardi cleverly managed to convey all of this and more with a dark twist at the end of a play which is seemingly lascivious and bawdy in a playful and quite risqué manner.

Egged on by Maria Cutajar’s domineering Angele and orchestrated by the nympho Nicolette, played by Coryse Borg, the group hires a duo of male strippers – Barney and Lolly, played by Claudio Carta and Chris De Giorgio respectively.

Although Cutajar was at times rather too soft-spoken for her forceful character and could have done with better projection, her intentions were still very clear – as were those of the rich and bored Nicolette. Borg’s portrayal of the sexy and libidinous Nicolette, who has everything but excitement in her life, was fun, slightly smutty and cheeky, but certainly not as cheeky as Carta and De Giorgio, whose nether cheeks were very publicly exposed in a daring and very funny striptease for the normally straight-laced Manoel Theatre.

But their little show was not the point of the women’s intentions. If anything, it created a situation of reverse-objectification and certainly irreverence in Ray Farrugia’s excellent set – a properly recognisable chapel. Thing is, the ladies had something hidden up their sleeves which got the men’s very skimpy knickers in a twist, and ended in an unforeseen tragedy…

What this (nearly all) female production showed was that Maltese women really do know how to do it well – not just in the bedroom but beyond – in terms of writing, direction and interpretation.

Meanwhile, the music was by Mario Vella and Elton Zarb.

Littered with culturally relevant references and easily recognisable familial situations, this play was not merely a laugh a minute, but a well-executed exploration of the female psyche in a Maltese setting.

A very well done to all.