Review: ACCIDENTAL DEATH OF AN ANARCHIST at Stirling Community Theatre

Reviewed by Barry Lenny, Friday 8th September 2023.

For their final show for the year, the Stirling Players are presenting Dario Fo and (his wife) Franca Rame’s 1970 political satire, Accidental Death of an Anarchist (Morte Accidentale di un Anarchico), directed by Lesley Reed, using Ed Emery’s translation. It is based on the Piazza Fontana bombing of the Banca Nazionale dell'Agricoltura (the National Agricultural Bank) on 12th December 1969, and the unexplained death in custody while under interrogation, on 15th December 1969, of Italian railway worker, Giuseppe ‘Pino’ Pinelli, a member of the Black Cross anarchist group, who was seen to “fly out of the window”. Pinelli was posthumously cleared of any crime when, in 2001, it was proved that a group of three neo-Fascists were responsible.

The play was written for five males and one female, but Reed has cast the play as an all-female production (the Sydney Theatre Company did this in 2018, with Adelaide expatriate, Amber McMahon, as the Maniac). Reed has brought together a very experienced group of performers, the male characters using an array of comical wigs, costumes, and facial hair.

An anarchist has, according to the police, jumped from a fourth-floor window of the Milan police headquarters, but did he jump, fall, or was he pushed?

The action initially takes place in the office of Inspector Francesco Bertozzo, on the third floor, where he and his Constable are interrogating the Maniac, a fraudster who has a string of arrests for pretending to be people that he is not, from a doctor, to a bishop, three times, to a surgeon, twice, and more. In all, he has been arrested eleven times, but never convicted, and this is his twelfth arrest. In a battle of wits, the Inspector is only half-armed, and the Maniac runs rings around him. His Constable is of little assistance.

The scene changes to Inspector Pissani’s office on the fourth floor, from where the anarchist is supposed to have jumped. Pissani,  referred to in the script as the Inspector in the Sports Jacket, also has a Constable in attendance. The Maniac arrives, claiming to be the judge, Marco Malipiero, sent to investigate the incident, and calling for the Superintendent who was involved to join them. He then insists that they recreate the event, and begins leading them a merry dance, feeding them a series of possible scenarios leading to the death, then destroying the plausibility of each one, confusing the officers.

Next to arrive, is an investigative journalist, Maria Feletti, with a lot of awkward questions and statistics about the death of the anarchist, which is now claimed to be an accident, not suicide, as the police officers try to concoct a more believable story.

Much of the dialogue put forward by the Maniac and Feletti is actually taken from the reports and inquiry into the real event.

When Bertozzo comes in, carrying a copy of the bomb that was used, the others conspire with the Maniac who now, at their behest, pretends to be a forensic expert from Rome, Captain Marcantonio Banzi Piccini, a friend of the Superintendent. Bertozzo, however, knows the real Piccini, decries the Maniac as an impostor, and mayhem ensues as the others attempt to stop him from revealing the truth.

Feletti eventually recognises the Maniac to be Paulo Davidovitch Gandolpho, the “notorious sports editor of Lotta Continua". The Maniac has secretly recorded all that has been said and, meanwhile, has reactivated the bomb. The police are handcuffed to the window frames, and he offers Feletti a choice, free the corrupt four, or leave them to die in the inevitable explosion. The two possible end scenarios are then presented to the audience. Although Emery’s script actually has a different ending, this one is from the original.

Danii Zappia plays the central character, the Maniac, and Olivia Jane Parker takes on the role of Inspector Francesco Bertozzo, together setting up the premise of the play. Parker, sporting a well-padded false beer gut, portrays a suitably bombastic slob, determined to bring a charge against the Maniac. Zappia doesn’t let up the pace for a second as the quick-witted, fast-talking Maniac, the central character who drives all of the action, manipulating the others from start to finish. She establishes the Maniac’s ability to easily confuse Bertozzo, the theme that continues throughout the play.

Both Constables, with minor costume changes, are played by Ashleigh Merriel who, with her character having minimal dialogue, is given the opportunity to engage in a lot of physical theatre, her range of facial expressions making up for the lack of lines.

Inspector Pissani is played by Anita Zamberlan Canala and the Superintendent is played by Georgia Stockham, both of them verbally dodging and weaving, each trying to shift the blame to the other as they attempt to find a convincing explanation for the anarchist’s death. Canala plays Pissani as a suave, dapper man, seemingly unflappable, but showing the panic rising as the scene draws on. Stockham’s Superintendent is, thanks to one of the wigs, comically balding with a comb-over. She plays him as initially self-assured, then becomes more frantic as the Maniac works his will on them.

Kyla Booth plays the determined journalist, Maria Feletti, whose mere presence in this male-dominated world of the police provokes immediate lecherous attention from the senior officers. Booth presents a very focussed woman, who takes no nonsense from the corrupt officers in er pursuit of the truth.

There is a great deal of energy and enthusiasm in the over-the-top characterisations from the cast members, but there was only mild laughter generated for most of the opening night performance. It, perhaps, tries too hard to be funny. Some of the dialogue, unfortunately, was obscured by the heavy, false Italian accents, particularly when voices are raised, which is much of the time, and some was lost under the physical business often happening elsewhere onstage.

I did feel, too, that replacing Pietro Gori’s well-known anarchist song, Nostra Patria è il Mondo Intero! (Our Fatherland is the Whole World!), with an off-key, jolly song and dance routine, rather took away from the powerful political satire of the play. Adding modern references to the script didn’t really work, either.

This is a brave effort to stage a difficult play that, more than a half-century on, places extra demands to connect with audiences who, quite possibly, were not even born at the time, or have long forgotten the events that, for Australians, happened half a world away.