Review: 'The Suit', Young Vic, 4th June 2012

Husband catches wife in bed with another man. Man swiftly does a runner in his pants. Husband takes revenge. How? By forcing his wife to treat her lover’s abandoned suit as an honoured live-in house guest. Of course.
Such is the promisingly odd premise at the core of Peter Brook’s ‘The Suit’. With clothing racks serving as buses, windows, doors, and furnishings implied merely by gesture, the performers relentlessly bound through a performance area which is typical of Brook’s ‘Empty Space’, weaving a tale of adultery and manipulation against a backdrop of a black community’s struggle against apartheid in 1950s South Africa.
Bluesy music is provided by onstage musicians who frequently take on minor, slapstick roles throughout. Brook’s choice of music reflects a clever observation of the parallel ethos between the spirit of blues and that of the marginalised black community in 1950s South Africa, a theme that is brought home most poignantly by a gut-wrenching monologue relating the grisly tale of a black musician who challenges this unjust regime. 
However, for a play that revolves around masochistic manipulation amid hideous tyrannical rule, a sense of danger is somehow evaded. Though making no hesitation towards confronting audience members; handing out shots and dragging them onstage, one always feels perfectly safe and unabashedly entertained, the latter which in hindsight, sits a little bit ill. The above mentioned monologue is really the only substantial allusion to the play’s context. Whilst I appreciate the benefits of not having a point shoved down your neck, the near relentless humour (musicians donning elaborate hats to become gushing female house guests for the near final scene) comes across as a little excessive and unnecessary. 
An exciting concept that unfortunately, though enigmatically and entertainingly performed, does not quite deliver. 3/5

Review: 'Hay Fever', Noel Coward Theatre, 28th May 2012

Howard Davies’ scatty, bohemian set much reflects the demeanor of Noel Coward’s monstrously melodramatic Bliss family, the unit at the centre of this 1924 script. Lindsay Duncan dominates as Judith Bliss, the matriarch, an actress past her prime with a voice so chocolatey you want to eat it; whilst Phoebe Waller-Bridge and Freddie Fox bulldoze the stage as the intermittently languishing and impassioned siblings Simon and Sorel.

The play revolves around an unintentionally overcrowded evening in the family’s country home. Pinter pauses and squirming expressions abound, the effect is much one of that slightly sadistic glow you get when you gleefully observe someone trapped in a corner with ‘that guest’ at a party, think Abigail’s party with quadruple the Beverlys. 

Despite its 88 year old script, the production avoids feeling dated, partly because neither Sorel or  Simon would look too out of place if they decided to bust over to Shoreditch mid-performance. Most compelling though is Davies’ marvellous awareness of the thin line between humour and desperation, one which he uses to bring out the excruciatingly painful atmosphere of this evening from hell wherein every one of the Bliss’ guests finds themselves amorously propositioned by one or another of their hyped up, histrionic hosts. Refreshingly unlike many of its contemporaries, the performance gets the laughs without once relying on pantomimesque winks at the audience. A refreshingly relevant revival. Get on it. 4/5

Review: '18 Plays, 6 Nights, 1 Stage', LOST Theatre, 30th May 2012

Each year, LOST theatre present their One Act Festival which seeks to promote young writers. It’s on until tomorrow, I’d definitely recommend cruising down to Stockwell if you can, new writing and a fantastically cheap bar, it's win win.

As a new-ish writer myself, I found myself in a bit of an emotional quandary whilst approaching these reviews, the last thing I want to do is to cast my opinion and send someone spiralling into a pit of self-deprecating despair (though in this instance the writer would certainly be giving my opinion far more credit than it’s due). Yet similarly, I know that whilst criticism is a god-awful at times to receive, it’s significantly more useful than vacant praise. That being said, if anyone involved in any of the three pieces reads these reviews and vehemently disagrees/fancies a fight, please get in touch so that we can chat it out. Cheers!

‘Fallen’ by Ella Greenhill
Focusing on the topic of post-traumatic stress syndrome, Greenhill’s script interweaves the stories of a middle aged woman coping in the aftermath of a stillbirth and the more ambiguous tale of a girl recovering from an unspecified incident. As the play progresses, it becomes intriguingly unclear whether the characters in life of the latter exist beyond her own perception. An ambitious topic with imaginative locations, (putting characters on a big wheel? I’m a big fan) though at times the dialogue feels clunky and unnatural. The performances also rely a little too much on the cliched stock gestures of those portraying ‘mental illness’, something which seems counterproductive to the serious issue at the core of Greenhill’s writing.

‘The Workers Last Tango’ by Alex Steedman
Steedman’s two hander opens with a man, alone, switching the radio to Justin Bieber and busting out some strong moves (disregarding the choice of music…we’ve all done it). Yes it’s simple, but it’s funny. Largely performed in mime, ‘Last Tango’ shows us the slapstick conflict between a worker and a gruff curmudgeonly cleaner. Imaginatively diverting into the surreal, (including a spontaneous Tekken-style showdown complete with hard trance soundtrack, marvellous) Steedman’s work demonstrates strong self-confidence and a willingness to experiment. However, alarm bells which sounded from the preface ‘written, directed and starring Alex Steedman’ were somewhat justified. At times the piece came across as a little self-indulgent, a classic example of matey banter highjacking artistic merit and ultimately, a consideration of purpose. The piece would benefit from both a little objective criticism in the rehearsal process and hefty cuts, by the end it feels like a two minute sketch that outgrows itself. There’s potential there, but this would have benefited from a mid-rehearsal poke in the ribs.

‘Belief Beyond Hope’ by Stewart Schiller & Zoe Michel
‘Can a sane man love a seal?’ I assumed I’d misread the blurb…nope. Quirky and certainly different, the endearing relationship between the straight edge optimistic protagonist and his perpetually doped-off-his-face roommate is perhaps the most enjoyable element of this offbeat piece, though the script’s constant referencing to weed (‘come on, let’s get you stoned’) seems a little excessive and unnecessary for a performance that doesn’t seem to be making an established comment on recreational drug use.
Physically, the characters conduct themselves frustratingly monotonously, though perfectly in keeping with the aggressively excitable protagonist and conceivably his love interest, I find it hard to reason why somebody baked off his face would be jumping around, constantly waiting by the door in eager anticipation of his roommate. The piece becomes visually very flat, it would have been fantastic if the physical realisation of the piece delivered more justice to the offbeat, eccentric dialogue. Interesting script, but direction that veers a little too much towards the safe side.

Review: ‘The Irish Giant’, Cartoon De Salvo, Southwark Playhouse, 22nd May 2012

Cartoon De Salvo combine the factual and the surreal to tell the stories of Charles Byrne, a ‘freak’ of Georgian London who enjoyed short-lived popularity showcasing himself as ‘The Irish Giant’ before dying drunk and penniless at 22, and John Hunter, the surgeon fascinated with abnormal body types and their posthumous dissection. The dank, dripping tunnels of the Southwark Playhouse Vaults are ideal for this production depicting the seedy, grimy underworld of Georgian London and the clandestine business of bodysnatching. Pleasingly living up to its namesake, the company frequently burst into live music, switch accents at the drop of a hat and project rudimentary cartoons onto the walls of its delightfully juxtaposing surroundings. Traditionally grim subject matter is transformed into an endearingly silly and creative package.

This being said, the performance is marred by frustratingly avoidable flaws. At 1 hour 40 minutes with no interval, the cod-Irish accent and over characterised twitching of Byrne lose their initially novel appeal, the same can be said of the clichéd cockney warblings of the chief bodysnatcher. The booming songs delivered with such gusto in the first half hour seem disappointingly hollow 90 minutes later. Such a project requires a sparky cockiness, an ‘up yours’ to straight-laced historical re-enactment. In this instance the performers lacked that energy, beyond all other confirmation were the dejected faces at the curtain call. I couldn’t help thinking that the frequently referenced laudanum bingeing may have been a useful tactic for raising a bit of pep.   

For such a likeable, dynamic company, I’d wager that low audience numbers was the damning factor on this occasion. Refreshingly different, yet a little plagued by its own self-doubt. It’d be interesting to see if larger audiences in the future trigger a more self-assured performance. 3/5.

Review: 'Hip Hop Othello', Q Brothers, The Globe, May 6th 2012

Fully prepared for some cringey spectacle, (‘look kids, Shakespeare is COOL’). I was pleased to find that my fears for Q Brothers ‘Hip Hop Othello’ were wholly unjustified. The four performers bust out an Othello performed entirely in rap, delivering a production which, running at 90 minutes, is energetic, slick, and compact. The first intentionally funny production of Othello that I’ve seen (we won’t speak of the others), the success lies in the unashamed disclaimer that they’ve found out the ‘funny bits’, (is it just me or is everything somehow funnier in rhyme?). However, tragic content is equally confronted; the inspired decision to omit Desdemona’s onstage presence reinforces the fact that Othello’s fears and doubts fail to exist outside of his manipulated psyche. However gimmicky the concept appears, minimal props and uniform grey jumpsuits guarantee that the focus of this production is firmly on language and story. Fantastic, a company to watch. 5/5

Challenge! Twitter post-sized review of Collaborators, National Theatre, 14th May 2012

Collaborators,National Theatre. Interval thoughts, “He may be a manipulative despot,but Stalin is one funny guy!” Swiftly gets sinister. 4/5

Review: 'Macbeth', Teatr im. Kochanowskiego, The Globe, 8th May 2012

Teatr im. Kochanowskiego’s disclaimer ‘very adult content’, certainly doesn’t fail to disappoint; throat burning shots handed out by lascivious transvestites, King Duncan’s wrinkly birthday striptease and the unsettlingly realistic and bloody rape of Lady Macduff are just some of the attractions handed out in this ‘camp-tacular’ Macbeth.  One key criticism is Kleczewska’s decision to extend culpability of the murders to the witches, Ross and Lennox. The wider court’s complicity in the murders undermines the intense, claustrophobic and escalating depravity of the Macbeths’ relationship; the murders become not so much symptomatic of a couple’s sexualised pursuit for power but the collective actions of a ready-corrupted, shagging, powder sniffing court. Whilst the debauched cokey rave setting was a great choice, the group dynamic of the murders seemed to come at the cost of one of the most compelling elements of the play. Why not keep the character’s coked up and have them induced into paranoid, twitchy wrecks who are plagued with the suspicion that Big Mac’s started killing everyone? A solidly enjoyable production, but chaos took over from plot a little too often. 3/5