Toy Soldier is a poignant tale of loss, love and family in wartime, offering a relevant and hard-hitting exploration of conflict and its long-lasting repercussions.
Toy Soldier is a poignant tale of loss, love and family in wartime, offering a relevant and hard-hitting exploration of conflict and its long-lasting repercussions. Set in the Falkland Islands, the story starts in 2002 with Jane (Lucy Bromilow) packing up her family’s farm, when she rediscovers a box full of the belongings of an Argentinian soldier, Alejo (Nico Conde) that she once knew. This subsequently takes us on a journey 20 years into the past – 1982, when Argentina had invaded the islands and initiated 74 days of conflict. Bromilow’s level-headed and attentive Jane attempts to guide her 17-year-old brother Billy (Michael Tantrum) as he attempts to navigate this new reality of war with the clashing guidance of his logical sister and his extreme, menacing friend Mark (Spin Glancy) who wants to take on the Argentinians themselves. Underpinning the whole story is the plight of Alejo, the soldier who ends up injured and alone, relying on the help of someone who is supposed to be his enemy.
Featuring an incredibly strong 4-person cast, one particular standout for me was new LAMDA graduate, Spin Glancy. Playing Mark, a young man who has been radicalised and drawn into the dangerous ideologies of the far-right, Glancy’s acting skill brings to life a provocative and volatile antihero, aiming to corrupt his friend Billy. Mark and Billy’s plotline alone offered a harrowing perspective on the indoctrination of young men into right-wing extremist groups in real-time. One small criticism I did have here however was the vagueness with which Mark’s past was discussed, as Billy’s ideas were very clearly planted by Mark, but we never actually gain insight as to where these beliefs stemmed from for him.
While not speaking in every scene, Alejo’s presence in every scene serves as a reminder of the real people who suffer as a result of conflicts started by leaders who treat them like cannon fodder, never bloodying their own hands. With Alejo remaining on stage for almost the entire production, the character humanises the Argentinians that Mark and Billy talk about with such an emotional disconnect, we are reminded that these soldiers are not just faceless adversaries, as the two boys would have you believe, but they are real people who are only there because someone higher up put them there. Nico Conde gives an emotional and sincere performance, with my only wish being that, similarly to Mark, we were not given as much backstory for Alejo as I would’ve liked.
Featuring a minimal set of cardboard boxes in the intimate theatre, I found the set to be perfectly timeless, allowing the actors to jump seamlessly between decades without a set that contrasts the era. I also interpreted the use of cardboard itself as the primary set material as a comforting reminder of the brevity of struggle; no matter how dark the subject matter of the show got, you are reminded that nothing is permanent, war cannot last, and everything has its end. The level of consideration that has gone into the tech of the show was impressive, and I loved the use of projection, not only aesthetically, but with the content of the projection reinforcing the reality of the events on stage, only furthering its emotional impact.
It is worth noting that this show marks Helen Goodman’s London directorial debut, and I think that the refreshing newness and masterful direction of Toy Soldier is merely a signifier of great things to come in the future of her directing career.
Author: Charlotte Flynn