Sarah Camilleri and Carlos Farrugia brought some audience members to tears with their performance in Kristu fi Strada Stretta. Photo: Andrew Grima

Theatre
Kristu fi Strada Stretta
The Splendid, Valletta

The over-romanticisation of Strait Street’s heyday is a fashion that’s gained so much momentum it’s threatening to erase the real story behind this infamous place.

As bar after bar reopen, the promise of old-world glamour is attracting an all new set of people; but the professionals and socialites that populate the street today are a long way from the sailors, prostitutes and degenerates that once made this street a slum no respectable person would set foot in.

Kristu fi Strada Stretta, a name which translates to ‘Christ in Strait Street’, acknowledged that; and with its storyline reminded audiences that the narrow street that cuts through Valletta was once a place where abuse, debauchery and crime were ubiquitous. With that, comes my first nod at this one-hour-long play that surprised and shocked me incessantly.

With a name like Kristu fi Strada Stretta, I wasn’t sure what to expect. A part of me was dreading another Passion play, but the other part of me was curious to find out why Jesus would be in Strait Street in the first place.

Seeing as the play had originally had a six-night run in March, and moved on to have an extra show, I think it’s safe to say that many others were enticed by this juxtaposition of words and concepts in this four-worded title.

But as it turned out, the play was more about the darkness of man’s soul than religion, and Jesus – or, rather, His words – served only as a moral conscience that provided words of wisdom as the story unfolded.

The tale, maybe somewhat clichéd by its use of prostitution, abuse, adultery and priests with ulterior motives, still managed to throw the audience into a pit of misery and guilt, which, at least for me, elt heart-wrenching.

The play was more about the darkness of man’s soul than religion and Jesus

One thing which really surprised me was how the British sailors – played by Ryan Galea, Patrick Tanti and Justin Sean Grech – were turned into voiceless and senseless mimes that served both as a way of mirroring the audience’s emotions by pretending to gasp, grin or smile, or by bringing the other characters’ past to life.

Carlos Farrugia, Sarah Camilleri and Joseph Galea were fabulous in their performances as the three leading roles, and the script, written by Joseph Galea himself, truly made the most of their acting skills.

In fact, I have to admit that my cynicism at this ‘another Passion play’ was quickly turned into appreciation at three actors who worked so well together to tell a story, they brought some audience members to tears.

Undoubtedly, this play’s mystique was also the result of the excellent choice of location. A former lounge bar, The Splendid has a vaulted entrance that feels familiar-yet-unsafe, and high-ceiling rooms that feel both welcoming and unwelcoming; like somewhere we wanted to be but we knew we shouldn’t.

The venue – and more importantly, the intimate stage setting – really allowed the play to come to life, and the minimal but optimal use of lighting, props and period music made it possible for the audience to truly focus on the words and the actions, and to feel a part of that which was going on in front of them.

Personally, I think this was a brilliant play, and one that exceeded any expectations I had.