Based on the novel of the same name by Norwegian author Knut Hamsun, Artem Kretov brings his one man production of Hunger to the Fringe. Set in Christiania, the former name for Oslo, Hunger tells the story of a struggling writer who is desperately fighting against commerciality and the mainstream; the show explores the toll that this ultimately takes on him.
Kretov delivers a simply superb performance as the struggling writer that instantly draws the audience into his exceptionally dreadful existence. From the very start he embraces every aspect of the character he creates; his mannerisms give him a slightly squeamish feel that looks every bit the malnourished man he is playing. Furthermore, he so perfectly captures the increasingly unhinged nature of the character that, by the end, there were few in the audience who did not look at least a little scared of him. His audience interaction, whilst at times uncomfortable, worked perfectly in the context of the play. In particular his berating of his editor, an audience member whom he had picked out, was a truly unsettling experience.
Due to the depth of Kretov’s characterisation, at times the plot was difficult to follow, although this is also the case with the novel itself. Finally, whilst Kretov utilised the space excellently, at times it felt like he left the stage a little too frequently for a one man show.
Hunger is an experience and one that certainly led to me ask some searching questions of myself. I am not ashamed to say that if I met Kretov flyering I might well walk the other way, not out of discourtesy, but more as a sign that I’m still not entirely sure if it was all an act.
