The Car Cemetery
From: Thursday, 1st November 2007
To: Saturday, 1 December 2007
Our Review: 
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Synopsis
In a desolate car junkyard on the edge of the earth, society’s outcasts party like there’s no tomorrow. Find out why, at the age of 75, Fernando Arrabal is still one of the world’s most performed living playwrights.
Our Review:
6 November 2007
Suddenly, it’s the Theatre of the Absurd all over again: Eugene Ionesco and Max Frisch at the Royal Court, Jean Genet at Stratford East and now Fernando Arrabal at the Gate.
It’s almost a case of “Have you heard the one about the Romanian, the Swiss German, the Frenchman and the Spaniard?” They all prospered in the European avant-garde theatre of fifty years ago. And Charles Marowitz once did a beautiful production of Arrabal’s And They Put Handcuffs on the Flowers (that title says it all) at the Open Space.
Arrabal, who lives in Paris, is now seventy-five, and still writing and making films. But The Car Cemetery, probably his best known play, a sadomasochistic re-write of the passion of Christ set in a car dump that is a bordello for misfits, has not, as far as I know, been seen here before.
His strange, stilted extravaganza The Architect and the Emperor of Assyria was somewhat...
Creative
Fernando Arrabal (Author)
The Gate (Producer)
Barbara Wright (Translation)
Natalie Abrahami (Director)
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