Review: 'Love on Trial', Bilimankhwe Arts, Ovalhouse, Sat 23rd February

‘I have never felt sexually attracted to any woman in my life…If a law is designed to suppress freedom, then it is a stupid law that must be scrapped’, speaks Charles, one of many characters embodied by Bailey Patrick in Bilimankhwe Arts’ simple yet thought provoking one-man show, a retelling of Stanley Kenani’s highly acclaimed short story based on the true account of a homosexual partnership between two young Malawian men.

Bare, sparse and remote, two washing lines cross a near-empty stage, from which performer Bailey Patrick suspends numerous newspaper dolls throughout. The image is enchantingly child-like yet simultaneously looming and sinister, an eerie evocation of the dire fate which continues to hover over practicing homosexuals in certain nations. The mounting accumulation of paper figures provides a striking visual depiction of the extent to which a private relationship becomes a public issue when a society has deemed that partnership ‘unnatural’.

Patrick immediately welcomes the audience to his home, angling his behind towards an audience member and quipping ‘best view in the house’, he sabotages any suspicious lingering of a fourth wall, fostering a good-natured, jesting tone. The atmosphere is transformed from cosy intimacy to uncomfortable intrusion, the initially comfortable immediacy now becomes more uncertain territory. On one occasion Patrick poses a seemingly rhetorical query “what does lewd mean?”, yet refuses to continue until at least one of his unwitting audience members has provided a response. Less aggressive, more provoking, this is a thoughtful device by Lane, recreating a very real scenario in which articulating your convictions becomes an uncertain and public event.

Director Lane fuses Kenani’s tale with references to the media furore which erupted from George Michael’s infamous encounter in an LA public toilet, with poignant, provocative results. Despite these interludes this is far from an all-singing all-dancing extravaganza, and Lane skillfully diverts both cliché and political lecture in this in turn hilarious and haunting piece.  What we have is one actor, standing on a tiny stage with two chairs and a suitcase. The story-telling element is enchanting, and a faithful preservation of Kenani’s narrative tone, yet more poignant is that ensuing sense of cruel isolation, the loneliness of one despised and ostracized by their community.

The sole criticism is that at 45 minutes, I was left wanting more, though perhaps this is director Lane’s point, providing a brief snapshot into a journey that is far off completion, a pause for thought on the continuing instances of forcefully curtailed dialogues; a point brought home particularly uncomfortably every time Patrick effortlessly destroys one of those fragile figures hanging above his head. 4/5

A comment on a recent review of 'Julius Caesar' at the Donmar Warehouse

Today I divert slightly from the usual format of this blog to instead comment on Charles Spencer’s review of Julius Caesar currently playing at the Donmar Warehouse. (Without prejudicing any immediate response…I would fully advise reading aloud in a smug condescending tone to get the full effect).  

“For as long as I can remember, actresses have complained that there aren’t nearly enough decent parts for women… I was rather hoping that the wives of Brutus and Caesar would be played by men in drag but this is a feminist closed shop and chaps aren’t allowed.”

(Read the rest here if you fancy getting riled up http://bit.ly/VlP9xG)

So one can assume that Spencer has a problem with gender-blind or single-gender productions? Admittedly they’re not everyone’s cup of tea, fair enough, you don’t like musicals? I’m not going to drag you into ‘Wicked’ kicking and screaming.

Yet, it’s worth noting that Spencer’s 4* review of Twelfth Night/Richard III, comments on the all-male casting only once to applaud that “all the female characters are played, superbly, by men” (http://bit.ly/VPHO9t). Similarly his 5* acclaim of Propeller’s Comedy of Errors/Richard III at the Hampstead Theatre last year, he claims was his “privilege to witness”. Clearly Spencer has no issue with lauding all-male productions, which makes his following quote that little bit more repulsive than it would be if taken in isolation, “I vowed that I wouldn’t resort to Dr Johnson’s notorious line in which he compared a woman’s preaching to a “dog’s walking on his hind legs. It is not done well, but you are surprised to find it done at all””.

This is of course not to say that Phyllida Lloyd’s production should be immune to criticism simply for being all-female. That idea is (almost) equally as offensive as Spencer’s misogynistic drawl. Yet Spencer’s waffle illuminates the reasons why this production is brave in concept, his evident tone of surprise in his admission that “in fact some of the acting is excellent” advances what I assume is Lloyd’s aim, to assert the fact that Harriet Walter and Cush Jumbo are as capable of bringing Brutus and Cassius to the stage as Mark Rylance and Johnny Flynn are of giving us Olivia and Viola. Whilst there are elements of Lloyd’s production that could be subject to criticism, the gender of the actors, in my opinion, is a valid response to a swelling trend in all-male productions amid an industry that is already largely dominated by opportunities for male actors.

I normally use this space to write my own reviews yet I will spare your ears any further bashing. I encourage you to go to this production (if you can get hold of a ticket) so that you can form your own opinion of what is undoubtedly an important piece of theatre. In the meantime, I’d encourage all to stop reading the reviews of ‘certain individuals’ charged with influencing public opinion with the view that eventually column inches will be bestowed on someone with less embittered and antiquated sentiment.