Bite the Dust

“Fucking shit!” the four Polish soldiers shout repeatedly as they topple back and forth, crashing the giant wooden poles on their backs into the stage. Such are the first words uttered, and they ominously describe the situation they find themselves in: alone in the woods, fighting desperately against invisible enemies and searching for some semblance of meaning in the inanities of conflict.

With Bite The Dust, Polish theatre company Teatr Provisorium and Kompania Teatr present a universal vision of the senselessness and cruelty that soldiers suffer during resistance conflict. The results are as powerful as they are bleak. The dirt and grime of war covers their bodies, gradually eroding at their humanity. Soldiers who began as disciplined, marching figures, shrouded in shadows are gradually stripped down as the absurdity of their situation is laid bare, until the Commanding Officer is reduced to a hysterical wreck, breaking into fits of tears.

The staging here is very successful: an old wooden cart provides transport and shelter; orders are relayed through an old gramophone, emphasising the detachment and incompetence of the officer classes; the wooden posts strapped to the soldier’s backs represent both the forest and stakes the soldiers are bound to, waiting for their inevitable execution.

At times chunks of the script are lost in the thick Polish accents and the overall message of endurance and absurdity is one that has been heard before. But the raw imagery, blackest of humour and the poignant ending more than compensate for Bite the Dust's limitations.