Megan Lewis

REVIEW: Tanztheater Wuppertal Pina Bausch+ Terrain Boris Charmatz: Nelken

Published on February 17, 2024 by Megan LewisLeave a comment

Bold, theatrical and striking. A mix of joyous play and jarring unease.

Pina Bausch’s ‘Nelken’ premiered in 1982 and has since returned to the UK’s stages multiple times, most recently in 2005. Recognised as one of Bauch’s key works, it is aptly described as ‘a vision of beauty and cruelty, tragedy and tenderness’.

Bausch became choreographer of the Wuppertal Ballet in 1973, and soon after which she renamed the company ‘Tanztheater Wuppertal’. ‘Tanztheater’ means ‘dance theatre’, Bausch’s practice incorporated aspects of speech, music, design, movement, and depended on freedom of expression. Her choices were often inspired by lived experiences of both herself and her company, and she would begin her choreography using stimuli based on questions she would ask her performers, many of which concerned love, for example, ‘something about your first love’. Though Bausch suddenly passed away in 2009, her practice is kept alive through Tanztheater Wuppertal today. The company is now headed up by Artistic Director Boris Charmatz, and this new production of Nelken has been led by rehearsal directors Silvia Farias Heredia and Eddie Martinex, in collaboration with Magali Caillet Gajan.

A carpet of 8000 beautiful carnations adorns the Sadlers Wells stage as we take our seats. The air smells clean and floral (thanks to a certain company member armed with two aerosol air fresheners). The opening set alone (designed by Peter Pabst) has an incredible effect, it’s serene, almost ethereal. It’s a piece of art. Dancers dressed in evening attire carefully pick their way through the flowers, gently setting down their chairs and taking their seats as they listen to light classical music. They stay for a brief time before clearing the stage, but not before part of the company descends into the audience and invite some individuals to leave on their arm. Already, we are involved in the show. For some perhaps this is unwelcome, but I (despite not being chosen) found this to be inviting – in Bauch’s own words, her work is ‘a space where we can encounter each other’.

A lone man steps forward and begins to perform Gershwin’s ‘The Man I Love’, reciting the lyrics in sign language. As the tempo picks up speed so do his gestures, eliciting ripples of laughter from the audience. The soundtrack throughout the performance is largely made up of captivating music from the 1930s and 1940s, including songs by Louis Armstrong, Franz Lehar, and other classic names.

The production is peppered with abstract scenes, each exploring different relationships and behaviours. The company return to the stage to play a version of ‘grannies footsteps’. They make a convincing school playground, bickering about who was caught out and skulking back to the start line. As they run to the back wall they make exclamations: ‘I love carnations’, ‘I hate carnations’. It is an endearing reminder of childhood freedom. Later, parent/child relationships are explored, pairs scamper through across the stage, shouting reprimands into a microphone. One of Bauch’s questions she would ask of her performers was ‘When you were a child, how did you imagine love?’ Scenes such as these have such potential to spark various deep emotions in audiences. Perhaps the message was a little obvious in this case, but it was still effective.

Nelken also delves into discomfort. A man is continuously forced to imitate animal after animal, dehumanised and degraded he barks like a dog, screams like a parrot. It is jarring to watch. Men in suits patrol the stage with Alsatians on leashes, watching dancers bunny-hop about the space . One dancer is pulled up, and asked for his passport, before being told: ‘you may continue hopping’. The juxtaposition of the playfulness of the dancers and the oppressiveness of the guards creates a visceral sense of unease.

The costumes (Marion Cito) reflect the themes of the piece. Dancers clad in evening dresses are at times elegant, at others like children playing at dress-up. As the themes darken some of the male dancers change into suits, and they lose some of their essence of freedom.

Dance sequences become hypnotic as they are repeated – dancers move their chairs about, standing up and sitting down in unison and canon. Each individual in the company gives the performance their all. It is a demanding production, emotionally and physically, and a true spectacle to behold. They push themselves to extreme limits, pirouetting, screaming, chasing, jumping with incredible vigour. Nelken is bold, theatrical and striking.

Toward the end we see the iconic ‘Nelken line’, a signature motif of Bauch’s work as the dancers walk in single-file and repeat a sequence of movements to depict the four seasons of the year. We are invited to hug our fellow audience members. To close the show, company members address the audience, sharing their story on why they became a dancer. This is a heart-warming end to a very affecting show.

Nelken runs at Sadler’s Wells until 22^nd February . If you are interested in dance this is not a show to miss. If you are usually a play/musical kind of person, I recommend you give this a watch. Mix it up, you could be pleasantly surprised.

REVIEW: The Frogs

Published on February 11, 2024 by Megan LewisLeave a comment

Using Aristophane’s The Frogs as a backdrop, Spymonkey take us on a comedic yet personal journey of grief and reinvention.

Spymonkey have been in the comedy business for decades, starting out way back in 1998, their journey began with Stiff, a black comedy about undertakers which went on to tour several countries. They gained more of a following with their hit show Cooped and since then they have built a rather impressive portfolio of productions, including Moby Dick which ran at the Lyric Hammersmith, and Oedipussy, created in collaboration with Emma Rice (Kneehigh), and writer Carl Grose.

Over recent years Spymonkey has seen a lot of change, with the sad passing of associate artist Stephan Kreiss in 2022, and founding associate Petra Massey moving across the pond to take up a residency in Las Vegas, Toby Park and Aitor Basauri remain as the artistic directors heading up the company. The now double-act have made a bold return to the stage with their new production The Frogs (co-written with Carl Grose), a chaotic, anarchic spectacle chock-full of clowning, innuendos, satire, slapstick, dramatic songs, and double-takes. Prepare for the fourth wall to be broken. A lot. Perhaps too much, some might think.

Using Aristophane’s 3000 year old play The Frogs as a backdrop to their own story, Parks and Basauri take us on a personal journey of grief and reinvention. Spymonkey have been contacted by eccentric Hollywood producer Patty Getty, offering them millions to do a ‘epoch-defining’ re-imagining of The Frogs, the oldest two-hander in recorded history, adapted by Getty’s niece Jacoba Williams. Greek God of wine, festivity and theatre Dionysus (Park), accompanied by his slave Xanthius (Basauri), journey through Hades in search of his favourite hero Heracles, hoping to bring him back from the dead. Throughout their mission the pair come face to face with an array of opposers, all played by versatile actress Williams. A frog-licking-induced hallucination throws a massive spanner into the works, and Park and Basauri become obsessed with bringing back their departed friend Stephan, rather than sticking to Williams’ script (much to her frustration). It’s a play within a play as the duo’s overacting (at least they are self-aware) causes them to fall into the ‘scenes in between’. We catapult between random snippets, including a detour into A Streetcar Named Desire, and a faux Ted Talk on theatre. It’s messy, but to be fair, that’s the Spymonkey style.

The cast of three deliver the comedy expertly, and despite it being a little too frantic at times it really is a masterclass in clowning. Jacoba Williams shines as the newest addition to the company, and it is fantastic to see the three of them perform with such vigour.

Costume and set design by Lucy Bradridge is exceptional and lends itself perfectly to the chaotic comedy. Williams’ Heracles bares it all in a muscle-bound suit, incredibly detailed from the lion’s head up top down to the impressively crafted genitalia which she thrusts to-and-fro, bringing the audience to cackling laughter. Park’s Dionysus stands tall in platform sandals, a historical nod to the ancient Greek ‘kothorni’, worn by actors in order to differentiate the social classes and importance of each character during a play. As Xanthius, Basauri is clad in tatty robes, baggy underpants and armed with a mop. As the men repeatedly joke, Williams got the best costumes out of the lot – incredible god-monster garments, brightly coloured, with tentacles and cartoonish headpieces. Radridge has also designed a brilliant set, with multiple levels for the actors to play with, and a revolving stage which is used in many of the gags.

The Frogs is manically entertaining, at times moving and thought-provoking. Spymonkey have made a fantastic return to the stage with this piece, and you can catch it at the Kiln Theatre until 2nd March.

REVIEW: Hexenhammer

Published on February 8, 2024February 11, 2024 by Megan LewisLeave a comment

A clever comedy which exposes the awful consequences of toxic masculinity

Throughout history, there have always been men blaming women for their own problems. Today, incels smash away at their keyboards, dominating online forums which champion misogynistic views, and venting their frustrations about their lack of female attention. The Andrew Tates of the world inspire impressionable young boys, spreading hatred which all too often sparks into violence. This is nothing new. Sure, progress has been made, being an adult woman no longer just means marriage and baby-making, and we have far more freedom. But as a society we still have a long way to go. Back in 1486 two German monks, Heinrich Kramer and Jacob Sprenger, the Joe Rogans of their time, published ‘Hexenhammer’, what would become the best known treatise purporting to be about witchcraft. The key message of this book is as follows: chaos is female, and women corrupt men, so women must be destroyed. Now, performing duo Suzy Kohane and Sidsel Rostrup have taken this book and turned it on its head, using the story of Kramer and Sprenger and incorporating comedy and verbatim theatre to create a comedic play with a strong feminist message.

The play opens as the women strip off their dressing-gowns and strut their stuff on a bare stage. Dressed in men’s underwear, they strike poses and boast about their sexuality, taking ownership of the word ‘slut’ and turning the term into a caricature. The lights change, and we turn back time to the late 1400s, embarking on a book tour across the misty British landscape. Kohane stands tall as Heinrich Kramer, confident and assertive, a convincing ‘alpha male’. In contrast, Jacob (Rostrup) embodies the incel archetype – awkward, bumbling, a ‘three’ seeking both a friend and guidance in a ‘ten’. Jacob’s intimate conversations with God reveal his mixed feelings toward Heinrich, an overpowering admiration and a creeping concern. Together, Kohane and Rostrup form a comedic duo, with their contrasting energies enhancing each other’s performances. They are highly energetic and have great chemistry onstage, always keeping the ball rolling, even during a funny (slightly time consuming) mishap with a costume change. Their heightened performances are anything but one-dimensional. Rather than focus solely on ‘men are evil’, they cleverly draw attention to the vulnerability and fears that are so often felt by men before they start on the slippery misogynistic slope in search of someone to blame for their issues.

The play alternates between past and present as it follows Kramer and Sprenger’s story. Initially, the somewhat episodic scenes lack clarity and pace, but as the play progresses, everything becomes clearer and falls into place. The script is sprinkled with verbatim, infused with references to The Matrix (will you take the red pill, or the blue?), the ‘Am I The Asshole’ reddit forum, and direct quotes from famous incel-influencers. In a particularly jarring speech, Jacob quotes mass-murderer Elliot Rodger, who published a Youtube video promising ‘retribution’ and stating that he would ‘slaughter every spoiled, stuck-up, blonde slut’, before going out and taking the lives of ten people, and then turning his gun on himself. These serious moments briefly disrupt the comedic tone, leaving the audience with a lingering sense of unease that persists after the play ends.

This is a clever piece of theatre which exposes the awful consequences of toxic masculinity, and highlights the complex culture which leads people down this treacherous path. Though at times disjointed, the piece delivers an important, hard-hitting message, wrapped carefully in comedy.

REVIEW: This Might Not Be It

Published on February 7, 2024 by Megan LewisLeave a comment

An expertly crafted unflinching portrayal of the NHS mental health services

Sophia Chentin-Leuner’s play This Might Not Be It, shortlisted for the Women’s Prize for Playwriting, boldly depicts the deterioration of the NHS mental health services, and serves an honest, unflinching portrayal of the unfortunate lives at the mercy of this system. Our NHS is crumbling, with budget cuts and underpaid workers, and a government who doesn’t seem to take mental health with the seriousness that it deserves, the system is failing many young people in need. Relatable characters, mundane office life, moral dilemmas and more weave together to expose the cracks in this system, and pose questions about where the lines should be drawn when it comes to offering much needed support.

Angela (Debra Baker) has dedicated 35 years of her life to her role as an administrator in NHS Child and Adolescent Mental Health Services. She knows every patient by name, she’s seen it all, she’s steadfast in her routines and though her office may appear cluttered, it houses a system that she insists works perfectly (at least for her it does). Nothing fazes Angela. Well, not until the new temp Jay (Denzel Baidoo) shows up, potted plant in hand and eager to help. Jay is young, he’s used to caring for people, he spends all his time doing it, so why wouldn’t he reach out to a person in need? But when Jay tries to help troubled 17-year-old Beth (Dolly Webb) he crosses a professional boundary, and discovers the reality of what is truly at stake.

Chentin-Leuner’s complex and nuanced characters are skillfully brought to life by the cast. Baker makes an impressive Angela, endearing, no-nonsense, set in her ways, sharing the occasional anecdote between mouthfuls of tea and ciggie breaks. Meanwhile, Baidoo’s performance is filled with emotional depth. When we first meet Jay he is brimming with youthful energy and optimism, but as he learns more about the way CAMS functions the burden of responsibility and caregiving becomes too much, he gradually gives up on his initial goals.

Ed Madden has done a fantastic job directing the cast of three. Initially Angela and Jay butt heads, struggling to communicate efficiently and relate to one another across a generational divide (even so far as their differing musical tastes). But I found myself captivated as the pair’s relationship evolved from reluctant co-workers and they learnt to listen to each other. There’s laughter, betrayal, embarrassment, and ultimately, heartwarming friendship.

Webb makes her strong professional debut as the young Beth, a troubled seventeen year old approaching adulthood, about to lose the service which she relies on simply because she is coming up to her eighteenth birthday. Her silent tears and disinterested, stubborn facade reflect the vulnerability of multitudes of young people stuck on years-long waiting lists, and though her character only makes occasional appearances, she is imperative to the narrative.

Alys Whitehead’s set design is a perfect mirror of a health care administrative office in need of an efficiency make-over. Two desks face away from each other, with functioning computers and printers, and files piled high on every surface. The creative detail of the carpet stretching up on the back wall scattered with bits of stationery and a waste-paper bin adds to the depiction of a somewhat chaotic workspace and really makes the whole piece feel contained. Inset into the carpeted rear wall is a raised waiting room, complete with one of those wooden bead-maze toys that are a key part of any child’s memory of a British doctors or dentist’s waiting room. Lighting design by Laura Howard and sound by Max Pappenheim work hand-in-hand to create the office atmosphere, and make for interesting scene transitions.

This Might Not Be It has been extended due to popular demand, and will now run until 7th March the Bush Theatre’s Studio space. This is a fantastic piece of theatre, and I look forward to seeing more of Sophia Chentin-Leuner’s writing on stage.

REVIEW: Exhibitionists

Published on January 13, 2024January 13, 2024 by Megan LewisLeave a comment

A caricature comedy of manners opens brand new Kings Head Theatre not with a bang but with a muffled thump

The oldest pub theatre in the UK, running for 53 years, closed its doors in August 2023, and has now reopened as a shiny new purpose-built venue beneath the Islington Square shopping centre. The Kings Head Theatre, decorated in neon, boasts a 200 seater venue alongside a smaller cabaret performance area. Though not quite as exciting on the inside as one might hope, the opening of this venue is a win for the arts, at a time when arts funding is being savagely cut across the board. And to christen a new performance space you need a fantastic new play to draw in the crowds…

Exhibitionists is their play of choice. Writers Shayn McKenna and Andrew Van Sickle started out discussing what the work of LGBT writers during the 1930s and ‘40s might have looked like, had they been able to openly write about and express their sexuality without the severe backlash which would have been inevitable at the time (and has not entirely cleared from society today). From that, the pair developed an idea: what would a gay comedy of modern manners look like in 2024? McKenna and Van Sickle note their inspirations, from Rattigan and Ayckbourn to Shakespeare and Aristophanes. But the play itself appears to be a modern queer reimagining of Noel Coward’s Private Lives, albeit set in an art gallery in San Francisco, and with the addition of a fifth character.

Designer-clad lawyer Conor (Ashley D Gayle) and free-loving starchitect Robbie (Robert Rees) have been divorced for seven years. Their marriage was fiery, passionate and dysfunctional. Robbie is now sober, Conor now works for Disney, and both have moved on: married, and (sort of) engaged. Conor’s new husband is the young, self-proclaimed-twink Mal (Jake Mitchell-Jones), who met him on set while working as a runner. Robbie is now with Rayyan (Rolando Montecalvo), a gardener with a child and ex-wife, who is struggling to acclimatise to life as an openly gay man. The unsuspecting exes come face-to-face at their mutual friend’s exhibition. Robbie and Conor’s old flame reignites and off they run together, leaving their unsuspecting partners behind with just a text to say goodbye. Then begins the chase: the jilted Rayyan and Mal team up in pursuit of their lovers, bickering along the way. As in Private Lives, the pairs end up in neighbouring hotel rooms. The play culminates in an explosive final scene which sees the four lovers hash out their relationships, with the unexpected addition of the sexy hotel owner Sebastian (Øystein Lode).

It’s a promising (though familiar) concept. It’s farcical, and with the success of Mischief Theatre and the return of Noises Off to the West End, farces are all the rage. The play is intended to be a comedy, though many of the jokes fall flat – aside from a few witty quips sprinkled throughout which land with a scattering of audience laughter. Exhibitionists promises to be an exploration and celebration of contemporary queer identity and lifestyle, but it lacks depth and honesty. The characters are caricatures, pouting, eye-rolling and posing their way through the action. They kiss one moment and swing for each other the next, flicking between emotional states with no clear journey. The actors themselves seem to be pushing to sell characters which they know aren’t believable. They rely on heightened expression – it’s camp melodrama, which can be fantastically entertaining when executed well, but in this instance is strained and awkward. It’s surprising to see such an accomplished collection of actors performing in this way – perhaps the fault lies in poor directing and writing.

Beneath the kerfuffle there are some important themes explored: heteronormativity, monogamy vs open relationships, and the difficulties many members of the LGBT+ community experience when it comes to coming out and openly expressing their identity. As a member of this community myself it is wonderful to see these stories unfold onstage. But there were also some moments in this play which I felt could be damaging: a normalising – even romanticising – of domestic violence as the couples pummelled each other, and a disregard for addiction as Robbie shrugs off years of sobriety with a swig of wine. Perhaps with a different approach in style and some reworking this play could become a truly entertaining source of joy and celebration for the community – but there’s a lot of work to be done.

REVIEW: 1979

Published on January 7, 2024 by Megan LewisLeave a comment

In the same way Joe Clark fell short of his ambitions while Prime Minister, this play does not achieve what it sets out to.

Michael Healey’s play 1979 previously ran back in 2019 at the Berkeley Street Theatre (also known as the Canadian Stage) in Toronto. Now, the political piece makes its European debut at the Finborough Theatre. The production will run until Saturday 27th January.

In the winter of 1979, Canadian Prime Minister Joe Clark awaits a crucial confidence vote that could end his term. Despite his youth and idealism, Clark is determined to govern for the entire nation, not just his party supporters. Faced with a tough decision, he is visited by colleagues, opponents, and even his wife, all offering diverse perspectives and attempting to influence him throughout the play.

On entering the theatre I knew very little about the history of Canadian politics, and even less about 1979 specifically. Upon leaving the theatre, not much had changed. Healey’s writing is unnecessarily expositional and lacks focus. The dialogue is heavy with political information, facts, figures, clashing opinions – and sure, this is to be expected from a play about politics, but there is hardly any time to breathe and take it in. It’s difficult to grasp any through-line. Projected footnotes on the back wall introduce characters, and provide even more information to offer context to busy scenes, but they become distracting. Between reams of text, some self aware jokes (‘oh god, more reading’) fall flat. With insufficient time to read some slides during on-stage action, I was torn between watching the play and reading the projected text.

The cast of three bring a vibrant energy to the stage as they endeavour to lift the script for the audience. Joseph May takes on the role of the Prime Minister, Clark. Perhaps the most naturalistic onstage, May brings to life quite an ordinary seeming man. The writing does not give him much to play with, but he is believable. Clark is confident in his decisions, a little confused at times, but resolute in achieving what he sets out to achieve for his country and Government.

Samantha Coughland and Ian Porter play multiple roles, bursting into Clark’s office in successive duologues, set apart with slight costume changes and names projected on the back wall. Both bring a bold and almost melodramatic energy to their characters, but there’s a noticeable similarity in physicality and personas for each multirole moment. Porter brings a touch of comedy as Pierre Trudeau, winking to the audience and dancing about, but there is a depth to Trudeau, an uneasiness that is somewhat foreboding. Coughlan reaches great heights as Stephen Harper, beginning startlingly shy and building into a bellowing, determined and ruthless right-wing rant.

The effort that this hard-working cast brought to their characters was impressive, but ultimately the script doesn’t achieve its ambitions.

REVIEW: Ulster American

Published on December 15, 2023December 15, 2023 by Megan LewisLeave a comment

A star-studded satire that descends into chaos

Ulster American is satire to its core. It is clever, energetic, deliberately offensive, laugh-out-loud hilarious and extremely disturbing. Written by David Ireland, it is designed to shock and spark conversations. And the result is a spectacle that divides audiences. It delves into truths which are difficult to face, and exposes the ugliness of human behaviour. But how far is too far?

The play initially premiered at the Edinburgh Fringe in 2018, and has now been revived at Riverside Studios, boasting a star-studded cast. Woody Harrelson, Andy Serkis and Louisa Harland are drawing in crowds from far and wide. It’s hard to miss the bold yellow and blue posters catching eyes at every tube station throughout London, and it’s certainly been popping up all over my Instagram feed.

Set in the London home of director and theatre-runner Leigh Carver (Andy Serkis), the action unfolds over the course of a single evening. The show opens with Carver and A-list Oscar-winning movie star Jay Conway (Woody Harrelson) supposedly discussing their upcoming collaboration, a gritty play about the Troubles written by Ruth Davenport (Louisa Harland) a promising young – notably female and decidedly British – playwright, set in Northern Ireland.

Ruth is running late, and the men have immediately veered away from the subject of their collaboration. ‘You ever use the n word?’ Jay asks. And then, not too long after: ‘Is it ever ok to rape someone?’. What ensues is a bizarrely light-hearted conversation about which woman, if held at gunpoint, one might choose to rape. The characters are constantly trying to one-up each other, desperately attempting to prove their good-nature and feminism, that they are woke, and good people. While it’s cleverly written and the purpose is clearly to provoke and expose, and yes, maybe even to offend, I found myself feeling extremely uncomfortable, and quite honestly repelled, perhaps more so by the side-splitting laughter that was emerging from the audience around me. The play is making a point, it’s trying to send the audience a message – but when you’re laughing at rape, is that message not landing on deaf ears?

Ruth finally arrives, cheery greetings are exchanged, but when Leigh confides in Ruth regarding the earlier discussion the evening descends into chaos. What we see is a series of escalating conflicts. Feminism, the Troubles, sexual assault, disagreements over the script and politics, Irish nationalism vs Ulster unionism, Brexit, and that’s not all of it. It’s a lot to take in.

Though he began his acting journey on the stage back in his senior year of high school, Harrelson made his big break with Cheers, and has since become a prolific screen actor. Ulster American marks his first return to the stage in 18 years, following an ‘unsatisfying experience’ on the West End in 2005 that put him off theatre for some time. This winter he has bridged the gap between screen and stage once more, excelling in his new role. Harrelson encapsulates the caricature of a Hollywood star desperate to be adored. His timing and technique are on point, from yoga poses and flamboyant gestures to scowls, chin-juts and tantrums. He carries running jokes superbly, never missing a beat.

Returning from an even longer break from the stage (a whopping 21 years), BAFTA winning Andy Serkis moulds himself to the wine-guzzling director Leigh with ease. It’s no secret that Serkis is a skilled physical performer and voice actor, when I hear his name gollum immediately comes to mind (although of course his filmography extends much further than Lord of the Rings). As with Jay, Leigh borders on melodrama (it is a satire after all). Serkis’s performance is energetic and precise. He rants and raves about brexit, though outwardly moulds his opinions to suit that of his colleagues, never wanting to alienate them, but purely acting to serve his own purpose – despite the drama, he is determined that the show must go on, and he will do anything in his power to ensure that it does.

Louisa Harland stands out as the most natural performance in the play. Her portrayal of Ruth is captivating, somehow simultaneously heightened and subtle. Deadpan at times, yet defiant in the face of adversity. Strong and stubborn, Ruth refuses to bow to the demands of her elder, male, more famous, colleagues. All three characters are written to be disliked, but despite her right-wing political leanings, I found Ruth to be the most relatable (that said, I am also a young woman trying to make my way in the creative industry, so maybe that’s just my demographic). Harland particularly shines in the moment Ruth faces tragedy, her portrayal is assured, and nuanced.

Despite the excellent performances and the wittiness of the writing, I left the play feeling somewhat uncomfortable, and not necessarily for the reasons that I was supposed to. The crassnes of the initial rape joke and the effect that it had on the audience lingered with me, and though it carried through as a theme, a topic for discussion, I’m not sure that the overall intended message landed. The message was clear, sure, but when people leave this production will they be talking about the controversial topics that were raised, or will they simply be raving about the celebrities they saw on stage?

Ulster American runs at Riverside Studios until January 27th. The production is almost sold out, but for just £150-£175 one of the remaining tickets could be yours. Who ever heard of accessible, affordable theatre?

REVIEW: Dreaming and Drowning

Published on December 4, 2023December 3, 2023 by Megan LewisLeave a comment

Gripping and visceral, a moving depiction of a young queer black man’s struggle with anxiety.

Premiering at the Bush Theatre, ‘Dreaming and Drowning’ is a Mustapha Matura Award-winning play written and directed by Kwame Uwusu. The Bush Theatre, renowned for fostering emerging talent and amplifying unheard voices, is the perfect venue for this brilliant production. Already sales for this show have soared, and Bush Theatre announced before press night that the run would be extended with performances now running until 5th January.

The story follows Malachai, a young queer black man who has been eagerly anticipating a fresh start and the next chapter of his life: university. He’s settling in, he’s got a stack of books to read and he’s met someone new – Kojo, a musician with a megawatt smile, who’s basically perfect… But something doesn’t feel right. He keeps having the same nightmare – sinking, crushed by the weight of the ocean – and it’s getting worse… A beast grows in the water, hungry, relentless, hunting him but always just out of sight. As the boundaries between nightmare and reality fracture, Malachi must fight harder than ever to stay afloat.

Uwusu’s powerful and evocative writing captivates the audience from the opening words. The dream sequences, filled with poetic and visceral imagery, serve as a poignant metaphor for the weight and omnipresence of Malachai’s anxiety. It’s very hard-hitting, and these moments are all the more impactful as they contrast with the more conversational, every-day language of the rest of the piece. Malachai addresses the audience directly, and we’re moved to care for this young man and route for him to overcome the anxieties that hold him back.

Tienne Simon is fantastic. His portrayal of Malachai is energetic and expressive, and he clearly has a talent for physical theatre. His excitement as Malachai meets Kojo is endearing and infectious, and his frustration as he is confronted with the prejudices of his peers is palpable. This is an honest portrayal of a very real story which many can relate to.

Simon portrays all of the characters involved in the story. When it comes to switching between the secondary characters the accents become a little muddled, but the overall characteristics are distinctive and clear. We are intrigued by Kojo’s deep voice and inviting manor, we laugh along with the exuberant Ade and we are agitated by the ignorant, self-importance of Barney. All of the characters are familiar – walk onto any university campus and you could meet them.

The simple yet effective set design by Tomás Palmer, combined with Holly Khan’s sound and Josua Gadsby’s intricate lighting, immerses us in Malachai’s world and nightmares.The studio’s close confines enhance the intimacy and effectively maintain the atmosphere.

I would highly recommend attending a performance of Dreaming and Drowning, but tickets are selling fast, so hurry and get one while you can!

REVIEW: Uncommon Ground

Published on November 24, 2023 by Megan LewisLeave a comment

A gentle, heartwarming glimpse into the lives of several characters who find themselves on Clapham Common over lockdown.

“Uncommon Ground,” written and performed by Alison Skilbeck, debuted at the 2023 Edinburgh Fringe Festival. It is a collection of gentle, heartwarming monologues from a diverse array of several loosely linked characters, exploring themes such as love, life, death, hope, creativity, and frustration. Skilbeck wrote the piece during lockdown, drawing inspiration from her daily walks on Clapham Common at the time, the people she met along the way, and the trees who stand there and watch it all unfold. Directed by Gareth Armstrong with music by Simon Slater, the production explores humanity’s desire for nature’s solace, the healing effects of laughter and playfulness, and the enduring strength of love in its various forms.

I wouldn’t say that these are thrilling tales, I wasn’t on the edge of my seat, but they were anything but boring. They were relatable, wholesome, and very, very human. The evening felt cosy in the intimate theatre space above the Old Red Lion, with a glass of wine in hand and each story bringing a smile to my face. Skilbeck has done a wonderful job lacing each characters’ stories together, making the audience keen to know how the next character will slot into the small world and what their story will be.

Skilbeck brings each character to life skillfully, subtly adapting her vocality and physicality in an effective way. From overwhelmed, gin-wielding mother to ditsy disoriented Dotty, and young inquisitive Matty to elderly tree enthusiast Doug who faces the prospect of losing his love, each character is distinctly detailed.

The play concludes with a powerful, poetic monologue from the perspective of a tree. While well-written and well-performed, the dramatic shift in tone feels jarring and somewhat out of place amidst the other character-driven pieces. Though compelling, it felt as though it was the ending to a different piece altogether.

You can catch Uncommon Ground at the Old Red Lion until Saturday 25th November. If you seek thrills and drama, it might not be right for you. But for a gentle and heartwarming story on a Saturday evening, it’s a lovely choice.

REVIEW: Lizzie

Published on November 4, 2023November 5, 2023 by Megan LewisLeave a comment

A killer show which lacks execution

In the late summer of 1892, in Fall River, Massachusetts, a grisly scene unfolded within the Borden family home. The lifeless bodies of Mr. and Mrs. Borden were discovered with brutal axe wounds to the back of their skulls. Mere days later, the arrest of their youngest daughter, Lizzie, sent shockwaves through the community, as she was suspected of the heinous crime. This haunting tale, which captured the attention of the American people in the 1800s, has once again resurfaced to captivate audiences in the modern era in the form of a raging pop-punk musical.

LIZZIE premiered in New York, way back in 2009 at The Living Theatre, and almost a decade later reappeared across the pond, gracing the London stage in 2017. Hope Mill’s latest rendition marks the production’s first UK-built version, as well as its first UK tour. The show seems to have acquired something of a cult following, with fans dressing in Victorian-inspired frocks and corsets poised with programmes in hand, waiting to meet the cast for photos and autographs.

A rock musical exploring the real-life tale of a female axe murderer presents an incredibly thrilling concept. Similarly to the West End’s hit production SIX, LIZZIE reimagines history through a feminist lens and contemporary pop-rock melodies before culminating in a powerful finale where the historical women seize control of their own stories (and the audience is encouraged to stand and film the spectacle). However, where SIX excels, LIZZIE falls short.

The show aims to delve into the accused murderess’s intricate psyche, exploring potential motivations including inheritance loss, sexual abuse, oppression and madness. Four women, including Lizzie (Lauren Drew), her sister Emma (Shekinah McFarlan), their maid Bridget (Mairi Barclay), and Lizzie’s friend and love interest Alice (Maiya Quansah-Breed), drive the narrative solely through song, with minimal conversational dialogue.

The show features an all-female band delivering powerful punk tunes with heavy guitar, rhythmic drums, and strong basslines. Admittedly, some of the tunes, like ‘Gotta Get Out of Here,’ are undeniably catchy and energetic. But while the songs are impressive, they sometimes lack purpose and direction, appearing to serve as filler rather than driving the plot. Some details are assumed known, leaving gaps in the story, while character arcs feel underdeveloped and direction choices appear weak. Overall, it’s quite disjointed.

The lyrics reference Mr. and Mrs. Borden, yet their absence hinders the audience’s emotional engagement with the story. In ‘This is Not Love,’ Lizzie sings about her father’s abuse while cowering in an armchair (presumably, his armchair), which comes across as somewhat emotionally charged but also (and I hate to say this) reminiscent of adolescent melodrama. Shortly thereafter, she transforms into a ruthless, driven murderer, and while her motivations are clear they lack any real detail. The stakes are always high, but the work just isn’t apparent.

The choreography by William Whelton feels lacklustre, featuring simplistic steps that fail to infuse the necessary flair and drama required for a story of this nature and could honestly be easily recreated by any avid Tiktoker. Despite the questionable direction, the cast truly shines, demonstrating their talent and dedication to the challenging production.

Lauren Drew’s triple threat abilities, including her powerful vocals, allow her to convey raw emotion effectively. Shekinah McFarlane’s commanding stage presence and bold performance make her a standout, leaving a lasting impression despite her limited time on stage. Maiya Quansah-Breed brings a sweet and well-meaning portrayal to her character, complementing and contrasting the energy of her castmates. Mairi Barclay excels in her portrayal of the challenging role of Bridget, infusing the bizarrely pantomime-esque character with comedic commitment which makes the audience laugh out loud. All four women are exceedingly talented and watchable, and I’m excited to see what they do next.

Overall, the premise holds potential, yet the narrative lacks detail and clarity. While the direction falters, the cast’s performance is outstanding, carrying the show to the best of their ability. If you are intrigued by this tale despite its fallbacks, you can catch the show at the Southwark Playhouse Elephant until the 2nd of December, and then in Peterborough’s New Theatre between the 6th and 16th of December.

REVIEWER: Anna Jones