The Player
Gábor Reviczky is a great player: he both knows how to play and delights in doing so. His path towards an artistic vocation had no real family precedent. His forebears included counts, financial experts, and technically minded professionals; only his mother, who died young under tragic circumstances and had wished to become a singer, could be said to represent any artistic inclination.
Reviczky’s attraction to role-play and acting manifested early. As a secondary-school pupil he joined the Tatabányai Bányász Ifjúsági Színpad (Tatabánya Miners’ Youth Stage) led by Béla Éless [Hungarian theatre director]. This ensemble was not “amateur” in the everyday sense. Founded in 1964, it staged – thanks to Béla Éless – works such as Alfred Jarry’s Ubu Roi and Peter Weiss’s Marat/Sade. Reviczky performed with enormous pleasure, and it was evident that his path would eventually lead to the Színház- és Filmművészeti Főiskola (Academy of Drama and Film, today University of Theatre and Film Arts in Budapest). His first entrance examination was unsuccessful, so he spent a year in the Studio of the Nemzeti Színház (National Theatre, Budapest), then tried again – this time successfully. He thus entered the class of director Károly Kazimir.
After graduation it seemed clear that Kazimir would offer him a contract. Yet after one conversation Reviczky chose instead to go, together with the also freshly graduated Tamás Ascher [today leading Hungarian theatre and opera director], to Kaposvár. This ran counter to the capital-centric tendencies of graduating actors. It was, however, an excellent decision: he received diverse and substantial roles from the very first years. He realised early on that the craft can only truly be learned on stage, in front of an audience. One becomes an actor, he felt, only when one can be oneself before a full theatre.
Among his performances in Kaposvár, his portrayal of Stavrogin in The Devils [1], adapted from Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky by Andrzej Wajda, was particularly outstanding. Péter Nádas wrote of this performance: “Lili Monori and Gábor Reviczky’s acting invalidates that oft-repeated complaint – sentimental and self-displaying as it tends to sound – that acting is an art destined only for the moment.” [i] He compares the two young actors’ work to that of Mari Törőcsik and Zoltán Latinovits, though he finds the source of this affinity not in imitation or temperamental resemblance but in the quality with which they draw on their own original capacities. Reviczky presents Stavrogin as the embodiment of nihilism – stripped of emotion and empathy – yet still able to render believable his final disintegration.
Throughout his career he has often portrayed negative or scheming characters, but always in a distinctive and highly personal manner. Even in his early years he held a clear and characteristic view of this type of role: “I truly enjoy playing the intriguer. I like contradicting the hero while at the same time believing in the logic of my own character. Although I often appear dressed in black, I nonetheless believe that intricately written intriguing characters have no particular colours or external traits. The intriguer is not cross-eyed, not lame, not wheezing, not pulling grotesque faces. Who would trust him then? On the contrary: the point is that he should be trustworthy and likeable. His face and manner must inspire confidence. And his deeds speak for themselves. I think both Richard III and Lucifer are attractive.” [ii]
After some years in Debrecen, Reviczky spent only a single season each in Miskolc and Kecskemét, yet it was in these cities that he played several important roles in his career. The first was the title role in Alfred de Musset’s Lorenzaccio [iii], portraying Lorenzo di Medici. One critic analysed his performance in detail, emphasising its dramatic force: “His voice, physical build, mental suppleness and acrobatic mobility equally qualify him to embody large-scale dramatic heroes. Expressive features appear on his face in perfect synchrony with his emphatic delivery, making inner states clear and appropriately weighted. He fights and sweats his way through this performance, carrying out the struggle of the soul from within; he suffers in place of himself, and falls because of himself.” [iv]
Theatre critic István Nánay gave a similar assessment of his interpretation of Aston in Harold Pinter’s The Caretaker [v]. His description of the situation and the achieved effect illuminates Reviczky’s creative methods: “In his wavering, slow gait one always feels the compensation: the fear that others might notice the uncertainty of his movements. […] He speaks slowly, softly, articulating his words with minimal modulation; from the outset one senses that something is not right, though he never plays him as a simpleton or an invalid. […] Only during his account of the treatment does his facial expression change for a few moments; it then seems as though life were returning to replace the sad features. This monologue has a staggering effect, even though Reviczky uses no external acting device. He sits on the edge of his bed, the plank in his hand – the same plank he had been sanding when he began speaking. Then his right hand stops; with his left he grips the lower end of the plank resting on the floor. He clutches the wood ever more tightly; his right hand reaches across to his left side, that hand too contracting into a spasm. Meanwhile the delivery remains loose, almost indifferent. This contrast – the normal state of the actor’s body, the excessive laxity of the voice, and the spasm concentrated in the hands – expresses an appalling tension.” [vi]
This dual mode of approach is detectable in almost all his performances: his characters are marked by powerful physical expression on the one hand, and focused psychological presence on the other. This was evident in two significant roles he played in Kecskemét – two roles, two distinct modes of realisation. In the first, the psychologically driven interpretative approach outlined above appeared more strongly: the childlike and pure figure of Prince Myshkin in Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky’s The Idiot as adapted by György Száraz [vii].
“Setting aside the few active moments that rarely occur, Reviczky’s figure is all inner trembling; as events unfold around him, he becomes ever more withdrawn and defenceless. […] He is a man whose mind works differently from that of others, who draws different conclusions from phenomena than other people […], and who, despite the best intentions, is unable to navigate a world that is incomprehensible to him. The actor reveals the unviability of this attitude, yet also its indisputable beauty.” [viii]
With this performance he rewrites the stereotypes associated with the role. Traditionally, Myshkin had been presented as a neurotic and indecisive figure. Reviczky instead portrayed a provocative presence grounded in integrity, innocence and spiritual purity.
The other role Reviczky played in Kecskemét was that of Fadinard in Eugène Labiche’s The Italian Straw Hat [ix]. He shaped this role through entirely different means, relying primarily on his physical abilities. “The actor’s most striking asset is his marvellous suppleness. He creates the character through movement, constructing him out of gestures. He revels in an entire arsenal of gestures – though in fact ‘revels’ is hardly the word: such modest clowning is seldom seen. He plays without loudness or ostentation, never placing his own excellent abilities on a pedestal. His performance is enjoyable, refreshing and exemplary. Reviczky’s wonderfully elegant portrayal of the ill-fated simpleton is the centre of the play and, as such, may be considered to some extent an outsider.” [x]
The success of this performance was such that audiences flocked from Budapest to see the production. It was owing to this staging, together with The Idiot, that he was engaged by the Vígszínház (Comedy Theatre, Budapest) in 1979. His first role in the capital, however, was as a stand-in at the Népszínház–Várszínház (People’s Theatre–Castle Theatre, Budapest): he played Malvolio in Twelfth Night [xi]. He has performed this character on several occasions throughout his career. By his own admission, it is one of his favourite roles – perhaps because it offers him greater freedom. It allows him to display both the strength of his characterisation and his delight in playful humour. In the part of the self-important servant, he can reveal both his psychological insight and his distinctive physical style.
He described his approach in the following way: “Each role is shaped by the personality of the actor who plays it; what it becomes depends on him. It is important to believe that one is the person one portrays. The focus should not be on my being good, but on the being I embody. When I play Malvolio, I am him for the entire evening. If, however, I am cast as a bear, I must become a bear in spirit, and from this my movement and speech will follow. This is the essence of stage existence. It is a matter of emotion.” [xii]
Reviczky’s Comedy Theatre debut took place in the highly successful play by István Csurka, Deficit [xiii]. The production, which addressed contemporary intellectual dilemmas and the search for the causes of social impasse, remained in the repertoire for nearly eight years. Interestingly, the play was performed in a double cast. The quality of the Comedy Theatre ensemble at the time is indicated by the fact that both casts featured some of the leading actors of the period. Reviczky’s partners in the “Z” role were Tibor Szilágyi (X), Ilona Béres (W), and Ildikó Bánsági (Y). The second cast – by no means subordinate – consisted of Géza Tordy (X), László Tahi Tóth (Z), Erika Szegedi (W), and Judit Hernádi (Y). In the plot, X (Szilágyi) challenges Z, played by Reviczky, to an absurd “wife-swapping game”. Z manages to seduce the other man’s wife and thus becomes the nominal “winner”. In truth, however, he is the one who loses himself most profoundly, being unable to adhere to any stable system of values: “…it becomes clear to him that there is no way back. Where, to whom could he return? To himself? But does he even exist? ‘One cannot live without self-respect,’ he says matter-of-factly – and Reviczky condenses into this late, all too late realisation the drama of a man’s final disintegration.” [xiv] In this role he once again demonstrated the authenticity of his psychological transformation and his expressive power; the production, moreover, brought considerable acclaim to all its performers.
Among his many assignments, the next role particularly suited to him was the Suicidal in Ernő Szép’s Május (lit. May) [xv]. Here he could display both dimensions of his artistry: his psychological, absurdist sensibility and his physical inventiveness. Tibor Gyurkovics wrote of his performance: “Reviczky belongs among those few actors who possess a secret, an aura of mystery, an inner endowment – one might even say they are mediums. […] Through the wavering, stumbling movements of the man experimenting with suicide attempts, with his birdlike hands, he grows into the very presence of Death, while remaining a fallible, sobbing human ape. It is harrowing, elemental acting.” [xvi]
Another major role from this period was Stanley Kowalski in Tennessee Williams’s A Streetcar Named Desire [xvii]. The director, János Szikora, departed from convention in several aspects of the casting. Thus, he entrusted the role of the husband to Gábor Reviczky, who emphasised the character’s intellect rather than his physicality. Traditionally, Stanley is cast with a strongly built actor who highlights the character’s coarseness and instinctive nature. Reviczky, however, sought the motivations of the role elsewhere. He portrayed a man who, for reasons of his own, had failed to find his place in the world and attempted to compensate for this through various means. One critic described the performance this way: “The triumph of the ‘counter-casting’ is Gábor Reviczky’s superb creation of this figure. His loose-jointed, sinuous movements, the curve of his curled lip – traits he usually employs to characterise intellectuals or figures treated with a certain detachment – now brilliantly delineate the swaggeringly confident Stanley. […] With the emphasis of his words, Reviczky pushes life itself ahead of him. He slams the playing card onto the table, he hurls the bowling ball every evening for entertainment, and – and let us now be vulgar – he will later shove onto the bed the sister-in-law he despises yet desires. On the very night his wife gives birth.” [xviii]
In the following years Reviczky was cast mainly in comic roles, which allowed him to exploit his affinity for grotesque and ironic humour. These included Trinculo [xix], Beppo [xx], Victor-Emanuel Chandebise [xxi], Stationmaster [xxii], Baloo [xxiii], Argan [xxiv], Osip [xxv], as well as two especially notable figures: the chaplain Katz [xxvi] and Tevje the milkman [xxvii]. For his portrayals of the latter, he received the Ajtay Andor Memorial Prize [Hungarian theatrical award given in recognition of outstanding achievements in stage performance] in 1997 and again in 2010. When asked whether he did not wish to play more “serious” roles, and whether he feared being typecast, he replied in his characteristically dry manner: “Perhaps the problem is that I’m a rogue, because no matter what role they give me, I cannot forgo a single joke if chance brings one my way. I get bored with serious theatre; there’s nothing interesting in it for me. I don’t like productions where the audience is not entertained.” [xxviii]
He follows much the same principle in his film work as well, appearing in almost every major Hungarian comedy of the past decades. His performances in Zimmer Feri, the three instalments of Üvegtigris (Glass Tiger), and more recently in the internationally acclaimed Liza, a rókatündér (Liza the Fox-Fairy) earned him nationwide recognition.
What kind of actor, what kind of “player” is Gábor Reviczky? The lines of a nearly forty-year-old review, still apt today, reveal much: “In The Italian Straw Hat, Reviczky seems as though he were celebrating some personal jubilee with a benefit performance; with gallant good cheer he thanks the world for what has come so far, and slyly tightens the screws a notch higher than the demands placed upon him.
In short – he plays.
He plays with his voice, languidly, coaxingly, chirpingly, fearfully, and in other ways besides.
He plays with his face, as though it were made of rubber.
He plays with his movements, their corrections, and with the corrections of those corrections.
He plays with his acting.
He plays alone, he plays with his partners.
He plays with the audience and he plays to the audience – tossing up, trying out one solution or another.” [xxix]
[2016]
[i] Péter Nádas: A kaposvári „Ördögök” (lit. The “Devils” in Kaposvár), Vigília, 1975/8.
[ii] Judit Nagy: “Bemutatjuk Reviczky Gábort (lit. Introducing Gábor Reviczky), Film Színház Muzsika, 22 November 1975.
[iii] Miskolci Nemzeti Színház (National Theatre of Miskolc), 20 January 1978, dir. Sándor Beke.
[iv] András Farkas: Bemutató a Gárdonyi Géza Színházban – Musset: Lorenzaccio (lit. Premiere at the Gárdonyi Géza Theatre – Musset: Lorenzaccio), Hevesi Népújság, 9 March 1978.
[v] National Theatre of Miskolc – Játékszín Stage, 4 May 1978, dir. István Illés.
[vi] István Nánay: A gondnok két arca (lit. The Two Faces of The Caretaker), Színház, 1978/8.
[vii] Fjodor Mihajlovics Dosztojevszkij – György Száraz: The Idiot, Katona József Theatre, Kecskemét, 2 March 1979, dir. Sándor Beke.
[viii] István Nánay: Egy közülünk való Félkegyelmű – Dosztojevszkij adaptáció a kecskeméti Katona József Színházban (lit. An Idiot Like One of Us – A Dostoevsky Adaptation at the Katona József Theatre in Kecskemét), Színház, 1979/5.
[ix] Eugène Labiche – Marc Michel: An Italian Straw Hat, Katona József Theatre, Kecskemét, 17 November 1978, dir. István Szőke.
[x] Júlia Szekrényesy: Az odüsszeuszi szalmakalap (lit. The Odyssean Straw Hat), Színház, 1979/2.
[xi] William Shakespeare: Twelfth Night, or What You Will, Népszínház–Várszínház (People’s Theatre–Castle Theatre), 16 May 1979; stand-in appearance 1980; dir. István Iglódi.
[xii] Magdolna Árvai: Nem szégyellnivaló a könny! – Beszélgetés Reviczky Gáborral (lit. A Tear Is Nothing to Be Ashamed Of! – Interview with Gábor Reviczky), Nők Lapja, 21 January 1998.
[xiii] István Csurka: Deficit, Vígszínház – Pesti Színház (Comedy Theatre – Pesti Theatre), 16 November 1979, dir. István Horvai.
[xiv] (Majoros): Z – az idomítás csodája (lit. Z – The Miracle of Taming), Pesti Műsor, 2 February 1983.
[xv] Ernő Szép: Május (May), Comedy Theatre – Pesti Theatre, 25 November 1983, dir. Dezső Kapás.
[xvi] Tibor Gyurkovics: Szép este (“A ‘Szép’ Evening”), Film Színház Muzsika, 14 January 1984.
[xvii] Premiere: Comedy Theatre, 9 April 1988, dir. János Szikora.
[xviii] Tamás Tarján: Sínek közt kőzúzalék – A vágy villamosa a Vígszínházban (lit. Ballast Between the Rails – A Streetcar Named Desire at the Comedy Theatre), Népszabadság, 20 April 1988.
[xix] William Shakespeare: The Tempest, National Theatre, Budapest, 13 April 1990, dir. János Taub.
[xx] Jenő Heltai: A néma levente (lit. The Silent Knight), Játékszín Theatre, 7 March 1992, dir. Gábor Berényi, Éva Schubert.
[xxi] Georges Feydeau: A Flea in Her Ear, Comedy Theatre, 5 June 1992, dir. Dezső Kapás.
[xxii] Sándor Rideg – Péter Tímár: Indul a bakterház (The Stationmaster’s House), Budapesti Kamaraszínház (Budapest Chamber Theatre), 6 February 1993, dir. Péter Tímár.
[xxiii] László Dés – Joseph Rudyard Kipling – Pál Békés: The Jungle Book, Comedy Theatre – Pesti Theatre, 28 January 1996, dir. Géza Hegedűs D.
[xxiv] Molière: The Imaginary Invalid, Comedy Theatre – Pesti Theatre, 8 October 2000, dir. Gábor Rusznyák.
[xxv] Nikolai Vasilievich Gogol: The Government Inspector, Comedy Theatre, 8 April 2004, dir. Péter Valló.
[xxvi] Jaroslav Hašek – György Spiró: Schweik, Comedy Theatre, 8 December 1996, dir. István Pinczés.
[xxvii] Jerry Bock – Sólem Aléchem – Joseph Stein: Fiddler on the Roof, Comedy Theatre, 12 March 2010, dir. Enikő Eszenyi.
[xxviii] Viktória V. Nagy: Gazfickó a színpadon (lit. A Rogue on Stage), Heti Válasz, 14 July 2005.
[xxix] László Fábián: Reviczky Gábor személyes színháza (lit. The Personal Theatre of Gábor Reviczky), Film Színház Muzsika, 20 January 1979.