These once famously nameless…minor characters are given a renewed sense of agency…The funny moments landed well which consequently made serious moments difficult to digest.
The room above the Lion and Unicorn in Kentish Town is an unlikely place for a Shakespearean mailroom, yet it was a welcome surprise to see Don’t Shoot the Messenger on a buzzing Saturday night. I caught the final night of this production, as part of the ongoing Camden Fringe, and left feeling entertained but ultimately confused.
Traditionally, Shakespeare’s messengers serve a simple function: to enter, deliver concise and urgent news, then exit, all with the purpose of building dramatic interest. Here, co-writers Daniel Camou (director and co-producer) and Sam Plumbe (co-producer and performer) have flipped the script, these once famously nameless, and perhaps overlooked, minor characters are given a renewed sense of agency. They are verbose, brash and slightly awkward, and often silly.
Set within the confines of a bleak mailroom, we meet Brian (Henry Culcutt) the self-proclaimed “team leader” rehearsing how he will ask for a promotion after twelve loyal years at the company – which has only ever given him a £1.90 raise. Gavin (Sam Plumbe), a messenger of three years, is very suspicious of the new recruit Clint (Ewan Bruce) who has replaced a former messenger, Kyle, under mysterious circumstances.
The influence of beloved sitcoms such as The Office and The Inbetweeners is clear. The on stage trio maintain a continuous playful dynamic, full of rapid line delivery and sharp witticisms. Calcutt gave a particularly strong performance as Brian, his superb comedic timing earned him the loudest reaction of the night. Plumbe’s Gavin channels a similar vulgarity to Jay from the Inbetweeners, whose directness was oddly endearing; Plumbe’s facial expressions at times were over the top and slightly out of place but his energy was nonetheless engaging. Bruce’s Clint, more reserved than the others, conveyed the bewilderment of a newcomer trying to make sense of a bizarre workplace dynamic — unable to understand why Brian has stayed so long, or why Gavin despises him so much.
But here is where my confusion lies. Neither Brian or Gavin know why Kyle left the company. His disappearance has an estranged quality similar to Petey in Severance. This dystopian tone is continued in reciting a daily soul crushing oath in which the messengers must announce they are completely “replaceable”. While their bosses Susan and William are unseen voices heard overhead. Kyle’s disappearance ultimately remains unanswered, as the bosses dismissively suggest they should “just text him and find out.” This dark subplot was interesting yet never fully explored and left me feeling unsure why it was ever employed.
This tension between humour and attempts at serious drama was where the production faltered. The writing at times could’ve been more cohesive, as these tonal shifts throughout the show felt stark and jarring. The funny moments landed well which consequently made serious moments difficult to digest. Loose ends like Gavin revealing he has a child, was used solely to show how the messengers know nothing about each other, but the real impact of this revelation was completely missed.
That said, I was a fan of the absurd elements of this show. The play opened with a choreographed dance to Talking Heads’ Once in a Lifetime, with the trio dancing in cannon clutching letters. Later, Gavin furiously pelted a seemingly endless supply of ping pong balls at Clint – a great moment of chaos. These clowning elements gave the show a level of insanity that working in a mundane job conjures in its workers. I also appreciated the bookending of the play with another dance to Burning Down the House, as a fan of Talking Heads I will never complain.
Visually, Maddy Whitby’s lighting design built convincing atmospheres, particularly in a sort of ode to boredom montage set to Our House (the demo version by Graham Nash and Joni Mitchell). Spotlights alternated between Brian downstage – sat alone, wearing a paper crown stuffing his face with sweets to celebrate twelve years of unrecognised work – and Gavin upstage, taunting Clint into a game of ping pong while mouthing the word “dickhead” and pointing at him. Don’t Shoot the Messenger is a production with real promise. Its absurd humour and clever concept, coupled with great costumes and lighting make it an entertaining show. But the underdeveloped darker and dystopian ideas held the performance back. The play could’ve used more nods to Shakespeare, I would’ve liked to have heard more jokes about previous messages they had delivered or difficult situations the Messengers had become entangled in. However, there is something special about this concept and this company, and I do hope to see this performed again, with some adjustments.