A work that truly touches the heart🔔

It's been a while.
A very, very long time has passed.
I don't want it to just be buried like this, so I want to leave a record of my theater-going experience here.

So, Gekidan Shiki's "The Hunchback of Notre Dame" Osaka performance.
It's been a while since I've seen Notre Dame, and it really resonated...
And I was in the second row of the center block. It was incredible.
I was accompanied by a friend who was seeing a musical for only the second time (the first was Wicked in Osaka last year), so while thinking about the questions I received from him, I'd like to write a theater report, or rather, my own thoughts on the work and the characters.

"The Hunchback of Notre Dame"

I cried a lot this time too.
And I thought about a lot of things.

First of all, the question that lies at the root of this work is,

"There's a riddle I want you to answer:
What makes a monster and what makes a man?"
This question, posed at the beginning, is repeated with the exact same words at the end, after witnessing the entire story.

Even though the words are the same, after more than two hours, it sounds like a completely different question.

This structure is truly brilliant, and I couldn't stop crying during the finale.
■ Yasuaki Yamashita's Quasimodo
If I had to describe Mr. Yamashita's Quasimodo in one word, it would be very "pure."

What stayed with me most were the lines repeated in "Heaven's Light" and "Out There": "For I am ugly / I had given up."

In "Heaven's Light," he had given up because he was ugly.

But Esmeralda, an "angel," smiled at him.

He starts to have hope, thinking, "Maybe she likes me," and that perhaps there is a possibility that someone could love him too.
That's why the "I had given up" here sounds like it's becoming past tense.
However, it's different in "Out There."

After he finds out that Esmeralda and Phoebus love each other.

He closes his heart, which had hoped for a moment, and it becomes a "resignation" to live without seeking love anymore.

"I had given up. But maybe..."
to

"I had hoped. So, I won't hope anymore."
While harboring completely different emotions in the same words, he never makes you feel, "I am acting this out differently here."
I was moved by Mr. Yamashita's delicacy and the purity that didn't make it feel calculated.
And then, after Topsy Turvy.

Even though he was just treated so cruelly and humiliated, he drinks the water offered by Esmeralda and is able to say "Thank you."
I always cry at that scene.

I think Quasimodo is someone who never stops "believing in human kindness," no matter how cruelly he is treated by others.

That is precisely why "Made of Stone," after his kindness was exploited by Frollo's deceit and he led them to the Court of Miracles, is so desperate.

It's not just that his love was broken.

What he believed in, the very kindness he showed to others, was used, and he put the people he cared about in danger.

That's why the audience also gets angry and sad along with Quasimodo.

During the climax of "Made of Stone" that day, Mr. Yamashita's voice wasn't in top form, and there were parts where it became hoarse.
Of course, I don't think it was perfect as a vocal performance.

But even so, Mr. Yamashita never stopped "being Quasimodo" until the end.

Even when his voice became strained, he didn't become "an actor trying to finish the song."

Until the end, it was Quasimodo who was there.
I cried at that sight as well.

■ Is Quasimodo truly "pure"?
After the performance, I received a very interesting question from the friend I watched it with.

"Don't impure thoughts ever arise in Quasimodo?"

This became a very important question for me in watching the work this time.

I felt Mr. Yamashita's Quasimodo was "pure."

But is "pure" the same as having absolutely no "impure emotions" like desire or jealousy?

Come to think of it, that can't be right.

Quasimodo falls in love with Esmeralda.
In "Heaven's Light," he hopes that maybe she likes him.

That means, naturally, there must be a desire for "I want her to like me" and "I want her to choose me."

And if he finds out that Esmeralda and Phoebus love each other, he gets hurt.
Given the sadness in "Out There," I don't think it's possible that there is no jealousy at all.

I don't think Quasimodo is an "innocent angel" who transcends romantic or sexual desire.
Rather, this is where the contrast with Frollo becomes clear.
Frollo also desires Esmeralda.
Quasimodo also desires Esmeralda.

Both are human, so they have desires.
But how they handle those desires is decisively different.

Frollo demands of Esmeralda, "Love me."

He cannot accept that he desires her as his own problem, and eventually seeks the cause in her very existence.

On the other hand, Quasimodo is deeply hurt by the reality that Esmeralda loves Phoebus.
He gets angry and tries to close his heart.

But he doesn't try to take away Esmeralda's will because of those emotions.

Even if he has the desire of "I want you to choose me," it doesn't become "Therefore you should choose me."

Perhaps Quasimodo's "purity" is not about not having impure emotions, but about being able to respect the other person's will in the end, more than the desire or jealousy within himself.
Having desires doesn't make a person a monster.

It's how you deal with those desires.
No matter how much you want someone, can you acknowledge that they are a person with a will separate from your own?
I thought that was the big difference between Quasimodo and Frollo.

■ Ai Miyata's Esmeralda
What I strongly felt from Ms. Miyata's Esmeralda was that she was "human."
The way she screams, her expressions and body trembling in fear.

Including the part near the end where she says she "doesn't feel brave," Ms. Miyata never makes Esmeralda a "saint" or an "angel."

What's scary is scary.

She screams when she's cornered.
She doesn't think of herself as particularly brave.

But even so, she acts for the sake of others.

She isn't brave because she doesn't feel fear; she is a human who feels fear but still tries to act for someone else.

I was very moved by Ms. Miyata's Esmeralda.

And, as expected, her physical expression is brilliant.
Even in a single movement of lifting her leg, you can tell if she is "bending it intentionally" or "bending it as a result of trying to stretch it." (Of course, it's the former.)

I also like ballet and often watch performances, so I notice these things (laughs), but in Ms. Miyata's body, it looks like there is a clear intention in every single movement.
I knew she was someone with beautiful movements, but I couldn't take my eyes off her this time either.
■ What kind of world does Esmeralda see?

From my friend, another question:

"I want to dig deeper into Esmeralda's thoughts and values."

Certainly, compared to Quasimodo and Frollo, it's not talked about much "why she became that kind of person."

But if you follow her actions, I think there is a fairly consistent way of looking at the world.

I especially like the part around "Top of the World."

About Quasimodo's stone statues,

"I like your friends."

The part where she says that.

And the part where she tells Quasimodo, "We are together."

There are no lies in Esmeralda's words.

She doesn't pretend to have romantic feelings for Quasimodo.

But she doesn't try to hurt Quasimodo with that honesty either.

She doesn't laugh at the question of whether the statues "really exist."

She accepts it as it is, saying, "They are important friends to you."

There is no hierarchy of "being kind to a poor person" there.
I feel Esmeralda's fairness and justice in that.
For her, what is important is not "what this person is called," but "who is this person in front of me?"

She looks at Quasimodo, not as an "ugly bell-ringer."

She looks at Phoebus, not just as a "soldier."

She herself doesn't live only within the "Gypsy" frame decided by someone else.
If Frollo is a person who tries to see the world by dividing it into categories like "right/wrong" and "leader/follower," perhaps Esmeralda is a person who looks at each individual first.

That's why she is not a "saint who loves everyone unconditionally."
What's scary is scary, and what she dislikes, she dislikes.

If she falls in love, she chooses one person.

Even so, she doesn't deny the dignity of the person she didn't choose.

I thought that was the value system of the person named Esmeralda.

■ Kiyomichi Shiba's Frollo
Mr. Shiba's Frollo.
The words he directs at Esmeralda,

"Have pity on me,"
"Love me,"
sounded so inconsistent.
If he "realized that he was human," he should just admit that he has desires, weaknesses, and feelings of wanting someone.

But the values and religious views that Frollo has acquired do not allow that.

Because he cannot accept the desires born within him as his own, he places the cause on Esmeralda's side.
And while saying "Love me," he cannot see Esmeralda as a person equal to himself.

It doesn't become "I love you," but

"You, resolve my suffering."

That's why he is so unsalvageable.

And what I thought about this time is that Frollo consistently treats Jehan, Quasimodo, and Esmeralda with the attitude of "I will guide you."

For Quasimodo and Esmeralda, it can be understood as the personality and power consciousness formed after obtaining the position of Archdeacon.

But it was the same for Jehan.
Frollo and Jehan were brothers who lost their parents at a young age and were both entrusted to a monastery.

Even though they should have been "brothers who lived through the same circumstances," Frollo eventually becomes not "a brother living with his younger brother," but "a brother who correctly guides his foolish younger brother."

Frollo might be a person who is very bad at standing side-by-side with others.

Even when he loves someone,

"You and I are equal,"

it becomes a hierarchical relationship of "I will guide you correctly."

I thought that while this is a problem of his own personality, it is not unrelated to his upbringing of losing his parents at a young age and growing up within the norms of the cathedral.
If young Frollo had been raised with enough unconditional love, such as "Whether you are right or wrong, you are loved as you are."
Would he have been able to know how to love others and be loved in a different way?

Just as the Beast in "Beauty and the Beast" learned that "to love is not to possess" in his relationship with Belle, was there such a possibility for Frollo?

Thinking about that makes it a little painful.

However, that is completely different from exonerating Frollo.

The background of how he became that way might "not be his fault alone."

But I don't think it's "not his fault."

He had opportunities to see Jehan as a person.

He had opportunities to see Esmeralda as a person.

There must have been choices many times.
Even so, he does not let go of his own righteousness and continues to choose to "guide/control" others.
That's why I couldn't sympathize with Mr. Shiba's Frollo at all.
He is disgusting and ugly.
But he is not ugly because he is a simple "villain."

While there is room to think about why he became that way, that figure is at the end of what he continued to choose himself.

Mr. Shiba, who established such a Frollo, was truly wonderful.

■ Quasimodo hurting Frollo in the "Sanctuary"

I received another very sharp question from my friend.

"Quasimodo, who cherished the sanctuary so much, hurt Frollo in that sanctuary. What was Quasimodo thinking at that time?"

I've been thinking about this too.

At the beginning of the story, I think the cathedral was an absolute world for Quasimodo.

There are bells.

There are stone statues.
And there is Frollo, who raised him.

It was a "sanctuary" that protected him from the outside world, and I think the values given by Frollo and the cathedral itself were still almost inseparable.
But Quasimodo goes outside.

He is treated cruelly.

Even so, he receives water from Esmeralda and learns of human kindness.

He falls in love.

He has his heart broken.

He is betrayed.
He despairs.

And in the end, he comes to judge for himself what is right, rather than the "righteousness" taught by Frollo.

Thinking about it that way, Quasimodo hurting Frollo in the sanctuary might not mean he "stopped cherishing the sanctuary."

For Quasimodo, hasn't "what is truly sacred" changed?

Is it the building itself?

Is it the authority of the Archdeacon?

Is it Frollo's teachings?

Or is it the life of one person who is about to be taken away before his eyes?
At that moment, Quasimodo may have chosen for the first time what he should protect himself.
If so, resisting Frollo in the sanctuary was not desecrating the sacred, but I think it was the moment Quasimodo himself decided "what is truly sacred."

■ Florika

Finally, Florika's singing voice that wraps Quasimodo in love.

I always break down in tears there.
And this time, there was something I noticed for the first time.
The scene where Quasimodo jumps out to save Esmeralda, who is about to be burned at the stake.
Among the ensemble expressing the stone statues/pillars of the cathedral, only the person who played Florika was following Quasimodo with her eyes as if watching over him.
That expression looked very full of compassion to me.
Of course, I don't know how clear the directorial intention is there.

But it looked to me like mother Florika was seeing off her son.

Quasimodo himself doesn't know.

But the audience knows.

This person, who had given up on being loved, saying "For I am ugly," was born loved from the beginning.
And just as his father Jehan once chose Florika even if it meant leaving the "right world" of the church, his son also jumps out of the cathedral to save the person he loves.
I felt like his mother was seeing him off, saying, "Go on."

My chest felt tight and painful.

But it wasn't an unpleasant pain at all.

■ Takuya Shirai's Clopin, Hitoshi Sakuma's Phoebus

Takuya Shirai's Clopin.

He never erases the darkness as the leader of the Court of Miracles, but he is just so glamorous.

He really has a dangerous scent.

But when he appears, he captures your eyes.

What is that balance!

I was just simply fascinated.

Hitoshi Sakuma's Phoebus was also wonderful.

First of all, he is tall and has handsome features.
He is convincing as Phoebus (laughs).

And what left a particular impression was when he was dismissed by Frollo,

"It is a great honor!"

Phoebus's words with a clear will, "I am honored not to have to work under you."
But I felt that Mr. Sakuma this time put even stronger emotions into it.

Disgust for Frollo, anger, and the will to break away, all put into the single phrase "It is a great honor!" as if throwing it at him.

I was made to think, "Oh, he expresses this line like this," and "I see!"

It's a favorite line where Phoebus's will clearly appears, but I really liked Mr. Sakuma's "It is a great honor!" which showed that will even more emotionally and vividly.

■ What is the difference between "human and monster"?

This time, my view of "The Hunchback of Notre Dame" changed a little.

I think I used to see Quasimodo and Esmeralda somewhat like saints or angels.
But this time, watching Ms. Miyata's "Esmeralda who is not a saint," and being asked by my friend, "Don't impure thoughts arise in Quasimodo?" I thought about it again.

The two are not "specially beautiful humans who do not have monstrosity."

Quasimodo also desires.

He is jealous.

He gets hurt.
He gets angry.

He despairs.
Esmeralda is also afraid.

She screams.

She doesn't love everyone the same way.
Frollo also has desires.

He has weaknesses.

He has a desire to be loved.

I think everyone is human.

Humanity is not "having only good emotions."

There are desires, jealousy, fear, anger, and ugliness.

Humans have both humanity and monstrosity within them.

Then what is different?

Perhaps it is what you choose after having those emotions.

Do you force your desires on the other person?

Do you acknowledge the other person's will?

Do you exclude others because of your own fear?

Do you act for the sake of others even if you are afraid?

Do you cut off the person in front of you to protect the world where "I am right"?
Or do you protect that person's life even if it means doubting the "righteousness" you have believed in until now?
At the end, the ink disappears from Quasimodo's face, and ink is painted on the faces of the other cast members.
"This person is human."
"This person is a monster."

A line like that doesn't exist from the beginning.
Quasimodo is also human.
Esmeralda is also human.

Frollo is also human.
And we in the audience are also human.
In everyone, there is both humanity and monstrosity.

Which one do you bring to the fore?

Which one do you choose to live by?

Through the accumulation of that, can't people become both "human" and "monster"?

That's what I think now.

That's why, at the end of the story, when asked again,

"There's a riddle I want you to answer:

What makes a monster and what makes a man?"
I couldn't stop crying.

Even though it was the exact same words as when I heard it at the beginning, it didn't sound like the same question anymore.
And the curtain call.

Mr. Yamashita was sincere and pure until the end.
Rather than "he played Quasimodo,"

he lived as Quasimodo on this stage today.

That's what I felt.
And finally.

Mr. Yamashita and Mr. Shiba, a hug!!

Quasimodo and Frollo, who clashed so intensely in the main story.
Because they were the two who fought a serious battle on stage, I was so happy to see them hugging as "Yasuaki Yamashita" and "Kiyomichi Shiba" after everything was over.
I thought that was a reward time for the audience who watched the story to the end.

I was also very happy to be able to watch this work with a friend who was seeing it for the first time.

A friend I respect very much, who returns sharp insights no matter what I talk about.

"Don't impure thoughts ever arise in Quasimodo?"
"Quasimodo, who cherished the sanctuary so much, hurt Frollo in the sanctuary. What is the psychology behind that?"

"I want to know more about Esmeralda's thoughts and values."

Because of those questions I received after the performance, I was able to re-examine what I felt while watching the play.

Instead of watching alone, crying alone, and ending it,

by watching the same stage with someone,
"This is how it looked to me."
"But couldn't you also see it this way?"

by talking about it, doors I didn't know existed in the work opened.

Not just the stage itself, but including the time to think and talk with someone from there, what a rich theater-going experience it was.

I cried a lot.

I thought a lot.

And in the end, I think again.
I really love "The Hunchback of Notre Dame."