In Genius, the ailing Stanisławski seeks an audience with Stalin with the hope of saving the repressed Meyerhold. Employing subterfuge and flattery, Stanisławski convinces the dictator into making a deal: in exchange for teaching Stalin how to better play the role of a ruler, the latter will grant his three wishes. And so, the famous method of physical action is used in a completely non-artistic context. After all, in the words of its creator, “Ruling over a state can be an art. Also one of acting...”. Thus, the dictator learns to utilize gestures, props and proper intonation to inspire even more respect, and he also learns how to reveal physical weaknesses to create a trustworthy image. Satisfied with the lesson, Stalin complies with Stanisławski's requests and, in a gesture of generosity, decides to return the favor by teaching the director how to administer beatings and punishments, using the recalcitrant chairman of the Committee for the Arts as an example.
Słobodzianek's play is part of a series of Quartets - chamber plays written during the pandemic. While each stands as an independent work, the dramas interweave seamlessly, complementing each other through shared ideas, form, and subject matter. The author blends in varying proportion historical facts, meticulously gathered through in-depth research, with anecdotes, gossip or even fiction. This strategy allows the exploration of the great ideas of twentieth-century theater history, where prominent artists engage in discussions amidst the constant interference of politics in matters of art. Meyerhold's biomechanics clashes with Stanislavsky's method of physical action, and Kantor meets Grotowski in a café in Kraków. And it is the founder of the Theatre of 13 Rows, appearing as the protagonist of most of the Quartets, who turns out to be of particular interest to the author. However, as Dariusz Kosiński notes in the afterword to the book edition of the Quartets, the focus is not on studying and interpreting Grotowski’s work. Instead, he “appears as one who, through his very presence, poses inquiries about theater and the sense of theater-making”. This is the reason why appreciating Słobodzianek's series doesn't demand a background in theater history.
The narrative is peppered with spicy details of Moscow’s theater life at the time and discussions of theatrical aesthetics in the context of communist doctrine. Although Genius initially appears to be a light and entertaining play that is a pleasure to read and immerse oneself in, Słobodzianek leaves the audience with a lingering sense of hollowness and contemplation regarding the role of art. In the hand of the dictator, art becomes just another issue for the authorities, managed akin to filling party seats. It is, however, a constructive doubt, it would seem, one that prompts the audience to look more closely at the relations between art and politics.