Imagine the exact opposite of a joy ride: That would be “Cries and Whispers,” the stage adaptation of Ingmar Bergman’s 1972 movie.
Set in a literal house of pain, the show tracks the final days of Agnes (Chris Nietvelt), who’s dying of cancer. Illness isn’t sugarcoated here. There are no cute pink ribbons, but night sweats, vomiting and excruciating misery. Don’t bother coming if bodily fluids — fake, but even so — make you queasy. But then we expect no less from Flemish director Ivo van Hove, who’s earned a loyal following in New York for his no-holds-barred, highly physical productions of “The Little Foxes,” “Hedda Gabler” and “A Streetcar Named Desire.”
They were classic texts, while this one — now at BAM in Dutch, with translation — draws from van Hove’s other inspiration: iconic movies. And those productions, which rely heavily on live and prerecorded video feeds, are wildly uneven. “Cries and Whispers” only approximates the devastating intensity and pictorial beauty of Bergman’s classic.
The screenplay, set in the 19th century, alluded to Agnes being an artist, though that’s not really in the film. Van Hove’s version takes place in the present, and Agnes is an action painter — Yves Klein blue has replaced Bergman’s dominant red — who keeps a video diary, relentlessly filming her own degradation.
Accompanying her last moments are her sisters: the spoiled, girlish Maria (Halina Reijn) and the frigid, self-mutilating Karin (Janni Goslinga), who admits “I hate any kind of contact.”
A maid, Anna (Karina Smulders), cleans up Agnes’ messes, but it’s indicative of the show’s clinical remoteness that you never feel the affection between caretaker and patient that’s such a key component of the movie.
As usual, van Hove uses a lot of loudly amplified rock and techno songs, and they give some scenes a fantastic energy that’s simply unparalleled on our stages — Agnes’ death is particularly jaw-dropping.
But too much of the show feels coldly affected, and at times van Hove seems to do something just because it looks great, not because it makes sense.
Case in point: When Agnes isn’t writhing in agony, she recalls the ecstasy of a perfect fall afternoon. This is illustrated by a huge video of people making snow angels. In September? Even beautiful visuals shouldn’t become needless distractions.