On the Performance of Two and a Half Clowns
In Two and a Half Clowns, the actors speak in a flat, almost emotionless tone. Why did you choose this approach? Is there any emotional expression beneath that style?
The characters are not supposed to display anger—they are meant to express it without resorting to conventional emotional acting. That’s a difficult challenge for any actor. There may be moments when the performance slips or loses that balance. Theatre is a living art form, and anything can happen in a live performance.
Your productions often feature unknown actors rather than well-known performers. Was that a deliberate artistic choice, or was it simply a necessity?
It was a deliberate choice. I wanted to stage this production with students from Maktab-e-Tehran.
In theatre, every choice comes with limitations, and casting is one of the most difficult decisions a director has to make. But I wouldn’t describe it as being forced into anything. The limitations are simply part of the creative process.
The repeated use of a single piece of music—and your emphasis on its recurring motifs—feels quite unusual, at least in our theatre. It encourages the audience to listen more carefully. Why did you choose foreign music? Doesn’t that raise copyright concerns, especially for a production that is otherwise entirely original?
Although this production was created entirely in Iran, it takes place within a Christian setting—on Christmas Eve. That gave me greater freedom in selecting the music. As for copyright, that isn’t really an issue here. At least three of my own works have been used in Iranian films without my name ever being credited. In this case, I included the title of the song, along with the names of the singer and producer, both in the programme and during the performance. In fact, the track is credited four separate times. The song itself is extremely well known in Iran—perhaps even more recognizable than Kafr-e Iblis.
Why do certain words keep being repeated and emphasized? If the goal is to portray vulgar or coarse language, are these really the words people use? And if censorship prevents us from using certain expressions explicitly, is it appropriate for art to approach those boundaries indirectly?
Boundaries always exist—for now. But the examples you’ve mentioned are not really the issue. A writer chooses words according to the emotional impact they create. If I could find a better word to achieve the same effect, I would gladly use it.
The dialogue is deceptively simple, yet through humour it reveals profound meanings and exposes the inner lives of the characters. Despite the contemporary rhythm of the play, the dialogue feels carefully controlled. At times, however, the exchanges become so rapid that they overwhelm the audience and disrupt the rhythm. Is that a matter of the text, the performance, or something else? Do you agree with that observation?
I do. It’s primarily a matter of performance rather than the text itself. No two performances are identical. Sometimes the actors lose the rhythm in certain scenes. Ideally, they should maintain a consistent tempo throughout the performance, but theatre is created by human beings. Sometimes it works exactly as intended. Sometimes it doesn’t.