72 Books & arts The EconomistFebruary 1st 2020
21profiles, but also followings too big to
alienate. Teatr.doc is not the only cutting-
edge company to have faced official harass-
ment. Kirill Serebrennikov, director of the
Gogol Centre theatre in Moscow, spent al-
most 20 months under house arrest as part
of an ongoing embezzlement case.Saying the unsayable
In 2018 both of Teatr.doc’s founders died,
leaving the company to be run by Ms Gre-
mina’s son, Alexander Rodionov; many
wondered if it would carry on. It did, but
the intimidation continued—only in a new
form. A month after the sting on “Out of the
Closet”, protesters threw foul-smelling
chemicals through the window during a
performance of “War is Close”, a play about
the conflict in eastern Ukraine. Again, no
charges were brought. Instead, at the end of
last year authorities launched an investiga-
tion of Teatr.doc following a complaint
from an activist group called the National-
Conservative Movement. It accused the
theatre of disseminating lgbtpropaganda,
justifying terrorism in “War is Close”, and
promoting drug use in another production.
Staff were questioned; the theatre handed
over the scripts of the plays for review.
Last month police said they would not
bring criminal charges, in what Ms Patlay
called a victory for “common sense”. But
her adversaries have not gone away.
In this parallel censorship drive, far-
right agitators have taken aim at several
other shows and exhibitions. “Side by
Side”, an lgbtfilm festival, has been pick-
eted, as have art shows with religious
themes. In 2015 the director of a Siberian
opera house was forced out after his stag-
ing of Wagner’s “Tannhäuser” was deemed
sacrilegious by Orthodox Christians. Such
independent provocateurs are scarier than
the authorities, says Ms Patlay, “because
they are unpredictable and they are new”.
She thinks they have been emboldened by
the increasingly reactionary rhetoric of
Russia’s politicians. And they appear to op-
erate with the state’s tacit consent. “The
lack of punishment for them and the inac-
tion from police—it sends a signal that we
are not defended.”
On the contrary, says Valentina Bo-
brova, the National-Conservative Move-
ment’s founder. Outfits like hers may fur-
ther the Kremlin’s bid to stoke a culture war
between conservatives and those it por-
trays as radicals, but she insists the move-
ment is privately funded and has no links
with the authorities. She says she never
had much hope that her complaint would
close the company—and that it is not the
likes of her but liberal voices that hold too
much sway in modern Russia. “Teatr.doc is
an enemy of our country that is working
from within,” she says. “We cannot stay
quiet and we decided to act.” She was be-
hind the disruption of “Out of the Closet”,too. Her members are looking out for other
signs of “anti-Russian” activity.
Ms Patlay worries about the effect of all
this on the audience, who might conclude
“that you have to be particularly brave to go
to the theatre. And we don’t have the right
to ask spectators to be brave.” As to whether
Teatr.doc has managed to change Russian
society, she is illusionless. “I don’t think
the percentage of decent people has in-
creased,” she accepts. “But those people
who are still here, who haven’t emigrated,
perhaps it is a support of some kind.” At the
very least, she says, the company has
shown it is possible to talk openly about
things that others would rather hush up. 7W
hen the camera pulls back, Jake
Gittes is left standing there, slack-
jawed, bathed in the cold blue city light.
The girl is dead. The bad guy got away. A
dreadful crime will go unpunished. There
is nothing he can do about it. “Forget it,
Jake,” someone whispers. “It’s Chinatown.”
The devastating final scene of “China-
town” (released in 1974), one of the most
famous in film history, only came together
at the last minute. Roman Polanski, the di-
rector, and Robert Towne, the screenwriter,
had argued about it for months. Mr Towne
wanted to leave viewers with a sliver ofhope, but Mr Polanski was adamant: “You
have to show violence the way it is,” he in-
sisted. The villain would get off scot-free,
“just like most bad guys really do”.
Mr Polanski already knew something
about violence. In 1969 his pregnant wife,
the actor Sharon Tate, was brutally mur-
dered by followers of the cult leader
Charles Manson. “I don’t mean this un-
kindly,” Mr Towne later said, “but I think it
was impossible for Roman to come back to
Los Angeles and not end his movie with an
attractive blonde lady being murdered.”
In “The Big Goodbye”, an absorbing ac-
count of the making of “Chinatown”, Sam
Wasson profiles the creators of the neo-
noir classic. For Mr Towne, the film was a
homage to the Los Angeles of his child-
hood, a “haven of pastel and desert moods”
before it was choked by smog and traffic.
For Jack Nicholson (who played Jake), “Chi-
natown” was an aesthetic antidote to tele-
vision, which he saw as a form of philistin-
ism. And for the powerful producer, Robert
Evans of Paramount—who had an average
of two phones per room in his Beverly Hills
mansion—“Chinatown” was a chance to
show that artistic achievement and com-
mercial success could go hand in hand.
Mr Wasson is a stylish chronicler of
Hollywood politics, and sensitive to how
off-screen events contribute to on-screen
drama. “Chinatown” was the fruit of many
collaborations, including an unsung writ-
ing partnership between Mr Towne and his
college roommate, Edward Taylor. Conflict
enlivened the production, too. When Mr
Nicholson kept the crew waiting while he
watched the final minutes of a basketball
game, Mr Polanski smashed his television
screen with a mop.
“The Big Goodbye” evokes the care that
went into every frame, from the strict col-
our palette to the cinematographer’s limit-
ed use of zoom. Anthea Sylbert, the cos-Making moviesForget it, Jake
The Big Goodbye: Chinatown and the
Last Years of Hollywood.By Sam Wasson.
Flatiron Books; 416 pages; $28.99. Faber &
Faber; £18.99It’s “Chinatown”