A worthwhile experience and a great conversation starter, both introspective and entertaining.
A figure shrouded in English folklore, you would be forgiven for asking “who is Ned Ludd?”. Allegedly he was the namesake and founder of the Luddites, but that’s about all we know – a loom smashing rabble rouser, perhaps, but one that was able to inspire people to take action.
Joe Ward Munrow’s ‘The Legend of Ned Ludd’ looks at our reality – how capitalism has shaped our lives and our relationship to work, with the constant push-and-pull of innovation and adaptation undulating beneath it all.
With 256 possible combinations of scenes, it was laudable how well performed this was. Some scenes appear in all the performances – pushing the show forward, returning the audience to something familiar – the Luddite Rebellion. The other scenes are poignant snippets of the work-life relationships of people from around the world and throughout time.
Dominating the stage is the Machine, a metal framework hooked up to some conveyor belts and a ball-drop mechanism. It is this faceless entity the actors turn to when it is time for the scene to change. The soundscape becomes ominous, the lighting has somewhat of a The Weakest Link moment, and the Machine gets to work. It selects the time and place, the relevant props and costumes are dispensed to the relevant cast member, and the show goes on.
The process isn’t the smoothest, but the sound and lighting engineering is well crafted and went a long way to distract from the slight setting and costume changes. Props, set dressing, and costumes were kept to a minimum but utilised effectively.
Especially when considering the structure of Ned Ludd, the cast was brilliant. Age, race, colour, creed, gender – didn’t matter; it felt as though character allocation was as random as the scenes at times, and it was brilliant. Roles were committed to with a good measure of gusto, but not so much that anything felt forced or silly. Context was provided subtly or inventively so it wasn’t difficult to pick up what was going on, but above all it let the audience focus on what was being conveyed without falling back on assumptions about a particular time period or location.
The energy Menyee Lai brought to the stage was palpable, be it tension or excitement, anxiety or confusion. It was clear that Reuben Johnson was in his element while on stage – his Luddite-era performance was faultless, but one can’t help but feel he was done dirty by the Machine’s scene selection. Shaun Mason impressed with his easy characterisation and ability to emote, convincing in even the most unlikely roles. There isn’t a stand-out member of the cast, they all brought something unique and worthwhile to the production and they all gave a performance that made me want to watch them again. It wasn’t perfect – the narrative scenes were a little more polished than the Machine selected ones – but the acting was an enjoyable experience throughout.
Theatre might feel almost like an excess in times like these, but if ‘The Legend of Ned Ludd’ shows us anything it is that our own, modern, relationship with the reality of work and how we interact with is worth spending time examining. It always has and probably always will. It may be preaching to the choir in Liverpool (or most places up north that have long memories), but there is a lot of value the way the structure of this production prompts introspection. It may be a bit clunky in parts, but it’s bearable; nothing doesn’t work.
Take a date, take someone you want to get to know properly, or someone you just love chatting to. Discuss worker’s rights in the pub afterwards, how sad it is that people are perpetually struggling all over the world, that even the arts aren’t safe from AI incursion. Or discuss the deconstruction of traditional theatre, its history, speculate on what innovations are still to come. ‘The Legend of Ned Ludd’ is the sort of theatre that does well in groups. It is a conversation piece, but it has left me curious enough to see it again if I get a chance.