Grand Guignol de Milan presents three vignettes inspired by real-life events.
A whirl of physicality, drama, storytelling, comedy and slapstick
The first of these is The Butcher. It is just another day for the working ladies at a late 19th-century Milan brothel. However, they are alarmed by reports of a serial killer – a butcher’s assistant – at large in the city. The newspaper article, falteringly read aloud by semi-literate Rosetta (Giulia Mazza), reveals a description of the butcher, complete with an unmistakeable tattoo. The butcher soon visits the brothel and is identified by the women…
The second act is The Mysterious Client. The year is 1900, and Milan has seen several years of unrest, including a state-sanctioned massacre at a protest over the price of bread. Amandina (Michelangiola Torriani) initially delivers a monologue in which she dissects her clientele and breaks the fourth wall, interacting with men in the audience. Touchingly, she recalls one man she loved, Gaetano (Lorenzo Balducci), who visits the brothel – but only wants to use the establishment for lodgings. Despite being offered sexual services, he refuses her seduction, which only draws her closer to him. Gaetano’s insistence on privacy extends to his unwillingness to disclose his surname. It is later revealed why…
Scandal completes the trilogy, now set in 1913. A plain-clothes officer raids the brothel, searching for a cross-dressing sex worker. In the ensuing struggle, Rosetta is killed by the officer. Her death, institutionally covered up, provokes an outpouring of grief in the city, with hundreds of mourners at her funeral. The case is followed by socialist journalist Benito Mussolini – I wonder what happened to him…
Tales of the Boudoir, written by, hosted by and featuring Gianfilippo Lamberti, is a return to vaudeville entertainment. It is a whirl of physicality, drama, storytelling, comedy and slapstick that has the audience mostly laughing – but it's countered by subtle and tender moments of pathos, and a finale that leans into operatic style. The pace of the talented ensemble is relentless, and they are to be congratulated for this achievement – it is never easy to deliver in a foreign language. The quartet’s comic timing, in particular, is truly excellent.
Prostitution is usually driven underground, increasing the vulnerability of those who are often bereft of viable career alternatives. Yet, as we see here, they can have big hearts. Indeed, Grand Guignol de Milan offers a view of the many universal aspects of human nature in this fine production.
