“Spettacolare e inquietante: una masterclass di recitazione italiana.
Spectacular and haunting: a masterclass in Italian performance.”
Having read the English translation ahead of time, I was actually worried. The script felt more like a gender bent American Psycho fan fiction Tumblr post, fetishising female sociopathy from a male perspective. I needn’t have been concerned though, because Nadia isn’t a poem or a blog; it is a piece of live theatre. This is exactly why language is so important, and why performance transcends the stifling rigidity of words on paper.
Nadia is an Italian play, written in Italian by an Italian (Marco di Stefano), performed in Italian by an Italian (Chiara Valli). She too is directed by an Italian (Costanza Filaroni). English has nothing to do with it. Through Nadia’s own words in what appears to be the dankest prison cell, we learn the source of her childhood trauma. We learn of her first love whose promise is cut short. We learn of her happiness when her father dies and then, in an obviously extreme revenge response, we learn about her misandry-based killing spree. The use of a solo performance, a string of powerful monologues from the culprit’s own mouth is a captivating way to explore mental illness and the agency of a self-confessed killer.
Chiara Valli is a revelation. A masterclass in conveying almost every human emotion available in exactly the right tone and context, her acting elevates di Stefano’s dialogue. This play felt so much more evocative and powerful in its original language. She portrays a mournful, haunted youth, followed by bursts of controlled rage, spite, joy and fear. Her character starts out confused and lost, wondering where it all went wrong. Her hell-bent focus on trying to escape the restraints of her early poverty is matched only by her steely resolve and the way she funnels abhorrence into connivance and bloodlust into justification. Certain aspects are confusing- for example why does she immediately masturbate after each murder? It feels nonsensical to sexualise the kill – like gratuitous male gaze, and perhaps a female writer may not have included it. I did appreciate the descent into mania, and the way she essentially baits her victims into triggering their own demise – “toccami, cazzo!” (“fucking touch me!”) she screams at her final victim, who frustratingly does not budge.
There are a few things that irritated me and lost the realism, for example the fact she had access to an alarming array of items (knives, bottles, balloons) in a cell meant for a serial killer who is also apparently unsupervised. The use of Gen X/millennial English language musical interludes in between chapters was also jarring. Why is she singing The Cranberries’ Zombie? Does she feel particularly strongly about UK-Irish relations? I don’t feel the play needed them- even Italian songs would have fit better than using Linkin Park’s In The End or Radiohead’s Creep. The time period and location of the play is also never really established either- its contextual ambiguity is also detrimental to its realism.
Ultimately, as English prose, this does not work. As an Italian live performance, it is transformed. The obsession, impulse and agency of a female serial killer (a character often hyperbolized, trivialized or ignored altogether) is explored sensationally by its solo star, an actress with clear range, control and a deep understanding of the person she is presenting. Nadia is part of Voila! Festival, focusing on plays in a myriad of other languages. International and cosmopolitan, London is the perfect city to explore something in its native form. Nadia is a perfect inclusion. Bravissima.