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Review – Shrapnel, University of Northampton 3rd Year BA (Hons) Acting Students, 2nd November 2016

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I blame Mr Smallmind. I was perfectly happy seeing all those wonderful professional productions at the R&D and the plethora of other theatres within easy reach of Northampton. Then he said I should broaden my vision and catch some of the University of Northampton Acting students’ shows. Start gently with the March shows in the Royal. Get in deeper with the Flash Festival productions. Now I’ve turned really hardcore, as I accompanied the aforesaid bad influence on my first visit to Isham Dark (isn’t that one of T S Eliot’s Four Quartets? Darn well should be) and Shrapnel, a play devised by the students through their own experiences, observations and research of life on the streets in Northampton.

The programme notes describe it as an unapologetically sprawling vision of contemporary street life. That’s a really good description. The acting space at Isham Dark lends itself perfectly to this purpose, as we the audience look across the stage in transverse at other audience members looking back at us – as though they are our mirror reflection as we observe what’s going on in front of us. And, separating us, where the action is, the 19-strong cast suggest an overall landscape of hundreds of people coming and going about their daily business; and specifically, about 30 or so people whose lives intertwine over the course of approximately 36 hours.

Structurally – yes, it’s sprawling. At 2 hours without an interval I could have done with a pause halfway through, because it’s an intense show with lots to look at and my legs could have done with a stretch. What begins as a very diverse experience, with many seemingly unrelated characters just living their day to day existence, grows in force as you realise the hidden relationships beneath the surface. For example, you discover that person a) is person b)’s brother and person c) is in a difficult relationship with person d) and person e) is, in fact, a dog.

You could almost break the play down into individual playlets, some of which are very strong in their own right – either because of the acting, or the text, or just the impression they are trying to achieve. I loved the conversation between Jack and the girl who isn’t his girlfriend (Emmy? Can’t quite remember – very hard when the names aren’t in the programme!) but whom he’s trying to impress, when he’s concealing the fact that his super new job is a chugger. It’s very funny, quite touching, and indeed, I felt his embarrassment! I loved the night-time scene when all the homeless people get together and create a virtual living room out of just a rug and a welcome mat; that scene showed me something completely new about homelessness that I’ve never considered before – very challenging stuff. And I loved the scene where the two rival chugging teams have a stand-off, each trying to out-threaten the other, apart from the two newbies, who naturally want to have a good intercollegial friendship; very funny, and I can absolutely believe the truthfulness of that situation. I loved, although that’s not the right word, the scene where a guy, who is generally neither brutal nor heartless, gets caught up in chav/machismo pack mentality and starts tormenting a homeless woman with money if she’ll lick his shoe. And I loved the challenge you face when you’re giving a homeless person some money and then you catch them using their mobile phone – they can’t really be poor, can they? All these scenes are either heartwarming, horrifying or hilarious and work exceptionally well. And I loved the way everyone recreates the sound of raindrops.

We saw the first performance, so perhaps we should look on it as a preview? There were just a couple of loose moments, although perhaps not as many as one might fear or expect; it would be great if they had a plan for when the play definitely reaches its conclusion (!) and I recommend guys that you work on a smart curtain call; it makes all the difference as to how the audience feels about the entire show and its performers because it’s the only time we get to see you as you and not as your characters.

Having seen last year’s third year students perform in a few plays now, it’s absolutely fascinating to get this early glimpse into some (hopefully!) successful acting careers of the future. Of all the cast, I think only one person didn’t really convince me of their belief in their own character, which led to them giving an uneven and rather faltering performance. However, for everyone else, I totally believed in their characters, and many of them made me laugh and, perhaps more importantly in this play, made me cry. Well, very nearly.

For me a few performances really stand out as being first rate. Jessica Bridge is excellent as Harriet, a chugger with attitude – but not so much that she couldn’t be a rounded person too. She has brilliant clarity of diction and I heard and understood every word (a quality never to be underestimated!) She has (don’t take this the wrong way) a bad girl quality that is both attractive and edgy; quite a hard coating that conceals a softer centre. That really helps us to understand the sometimes contrasting and unexpected motivations of her character. I also really enjoyed the performance of Lewis Hodson as Ben, the homeless guy whose trust in mankind has completely gone, which results in his sometimes letting rip in anger against whoever he thinks has slighted him. If he’s actually based on a real life character in Northampton, I think I know the guy in question. Totally believable, with authoritative delivery and an excellent stage presence. One To Watch.

I was very impressed with Florence Rees-Waite as the pavement artist, holding her own, beautifully, against Lee Hancock’s formidable ranting insidious git character; exuding warmth and kindness in her interaction with the other people facing hard times. She has a very expressive face – it tells great stories without having to use words. When she does speak, she has wonderful control over the pace of her speech, which gives us huge confidence in her – you tend to hang on to her every word. Hans Oldham also showed great conviction as the Jesus Man, part preacher, part mental sufferer, part street alcoholic; he paints a very sad picture of this man but again with great humanity, and you feel with genuine affection. Connor McCreedy is a charmingly naïve Jack; April Lissimore gives a very enjoyable performance as the underachieving Carly with deeper problems than we’ll ever know; I liked how Olly Manning spins from being Mr Nice Guy to Mr Vile in that very telling scene of torment; and Kundai Kanyama as Martha successfully conveys the juxtaposing motivations of being a team leader; an element of coaching and nurturing mixed with an element of JFDI. And, it turns out, with a heart of gold.

The entire cast put huge effort into creating an excellent ensemble feel, each giving each other great support on stage, and giving the audience a rewarding and fascinating insight into what a typical street sees every day. I look forward to seeing them do more throughout the year!

Review – The End, Phone Box Theatre Company, University of Northampton Flash Festival, St. Peter’s Church, Northampton, 19th May 2016

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Not inappropriately, The End was the last of the Flash Festival plays I saw this year. Not only the end of my Flash experience – which had been thoroughly enjoyable – but also the end (probably) of everyone’s experience unless we all followed our instructions and made it to the safe zone. Confused? No need. Here’s the science bit: set in the very near future, the government released a vaccination to cure cancer; and though it was successful there was an unfortunate side effect – it killed 140,000 of the people who received it. I say killed; that’s not strictly true. The vaccine went on to cause rapid cell regeneration in the bodies, but the minds and the brains remained destroyed – yes, gentle reader, we have a zombie population half the size of Northampton.

But we, here in the church, are clean. We are healthy. We have undergone considerable scrutiny just to get inside the venue, with the gun-wielding Roach checking our bags (he made me unzip an empty compartment inside my bag, so glad he didn’t find anything suspicious) and the more gentlemanly Scruff doing a physical health check (he asked me if I had any marks on my arms, and was a little concerned at how long I took to answer, but I think I convinced him I was uninfected). Harper, the leader, is waiting for us at the end of the seats, with more questions and a frosty kind of welcome. You certainly feel unsettled, and even if you’re tempted to engage in a little giggle along the way, it doesn’t take long before Roach puts you back in your place with a gruff retort or a shove of his gun. This is not The Romper Room.

The only structural problem with this play is that, if you are one of the first to take your seats, it takes a long time to get going because everyone behind you has to go through the comprehensive security check. It very much adds to a sense of occasion and/or fear; but, in the end, you are sitting around, basically waiting for something to happen – although it does give you an opportunity to share your experience with your fellow zombie survivors. Once it does all get going it’s extremely exciting and thought provoking. Harper has a perfect plan for us all to escape; transport is arranged, and the route double-checked. However, sadly, the driver upon whom we were all relying has died and so we’re left with fewer chances of getting to the safe area. And it’s a helluva long way away too. The first stage is that we have to walk to Birmingham. That’s a big ask.

We meet the fourth member of the group, Faith, whom I’m sure was only given that name so that they could use the terrific joke about losing faith (No! She’s here!) Undercurrents of resentment abound, as Roach doesn’t believe a woman can do the top job, and Scruff resents Roach’s attitude, and Harper fights to retain her superiority, and Faith is offering us biscuits. When it becomes clear that Faith has actually become infected herself, Roach is all for shooting her there and then. But Harper intercedes and we discover that Faith and Harper are more than just friends; nevertheless, Faith remains a health hazard to us all and will die anyway. We’re all expecting Roach to shoot her – but then Harper does it. As far as the overall survival of the group is concerned, it was the only safe thing to do (even though she was so very nice to everyone). The play ends with Roach dismissing us all from the church, hollering at us to leave in no uncertain language, and as we leave the church to rejoin the outside world, we reflect that there is no zombie apocalypse after all (well, not at the moment anyway) and that we’ve basically left the theatre without giving them a round of applause.

The cast of four do a terrific job in keeping the tension and excitement up whilst still allowing for the injection of some humour, primarily through the delightful performance by Caroline Avis as the benign Faith who only wants to help and be supportive. I was really impressed by the no-nonsense attack and thinly disguised brutality of Daniel Gray’s Roach – Mr Gray really does do aggressive well. I was also very impressed by the performance by Connor McAvoy as Scruff; of all the cast I felt he was the one who most appreciated the situation we were all in and ran the gamut of all the appropriate emotions as our predicament worsened. It was a really intelligent performance; and he also provided a lot of the humour too. Matilda Hunt’s Harper was a naturally superior sort, every inch the queen of MI5, just about maintaining the authority she needed despite Roach’s Rottweiler tactics – another thoughtful and solid performance.

A memorable and disturbing piece. It’s hard to forget being chased out of a church by an intimidating maniac with gun telling you to f**k off, that really doesn’t happen every day. And Harper’s shooting of Faith with a deadly almost silent pistol was nerve-judderingly horrific. Now for that long walk to Birmingham – wish me luck.

Review – What If They Were Wrong, Two Funny, University of Northampton Flash Festival, Hazelrigg House, Northampton, 19th May 2016

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It seems to me that there are a few versions of the title of this play, but we’ll stick with What If They Were Wrong. Not that the title gives you any indication what to expect anyway! Oppression is a dish best served cold says the programme – for that you have to wait until the final scene, and even then I’d say it was served piping hot, but that’s probably a matter of pure semantics.

The performing duo of Benjamin Williams and Cynthia Lebbos call themselves Two Funny and, boy, are they right. This was one of the funniest hours I’ve witnessed in many months. Using the art of clowning, they tell the story of a couple. They meet at adjacent picnics; he takes her to a restaurant; they get married; they live in domestic…bliss?; and finally, fed up with his laziness and untidiness, she sends him to the dungeon. Yes, that’s right, they appear to have a dungeon in the downstairs of their house. Enunciating only a few words but with many communicative grunts and gestures, they tell the story with remarkable clarity and a fabulous appreciation for surreal and slapstick humour. Who knew that stand-alone words like “naughty” or “reduced” could have such hilarious effect when in the right context?

The audience involvement is considerable, which must be a quite a risk for the performers because they cannot know in advance how any one person is going to engage with them – and it really does require them to be fully participative! Audience members become a substantial part of the prop management department; they also become wedding guests, and even the vicar who marries the couple; one young man was required to read out a particularly lascivious extract from 50 Shades of Grey. But if either of these two actors came up to you and told you to make a fool of yourself in public – you’d just have to. They would be impossible to resist, such is the charm of their performance.

Mr Williams, in particular, gives an astonishingly physical performance, leaping up against the walls either side of the stage, doing one of the best banana-skin type pratfalls I have ever seen (particularly in such a tiny acting space), creating landscapes with his malleable facial features. At one stage I was laughing at whatever activity had just occurred, when he sat down on the couch in front of me and fixed me with his glare and just said “what?” – and it cracked me up all over again. But it’s not just clowning for clowning’s sake. Mr Williams wore one of those silly woollen hats with dog ear flaps that come down over your ears. If it came off or went askew he would scream with OCD distress until it was replaced perfectly – an excellent example of revealing a deeper character whilst still clowning. Miss Lebbos also has a brilliant physical comedy style, and I particularly liked her ability to break out of character completely and address the audience in a matter of fact way that you couldn’t quite work out if it was scripted or not. She looks all sweetness and light, so when she turns vindictive it’s a real shock to the system. And I certainly wasn’t expecting her to frog-march us all down to the dungeon.

Yes indeed, gentle reader, we had to get up from our seats in the Hazlerigg studio and troop down two flights of stairs into the dungeon, where she had imprisoned Mr Williams for some ritual abuse. (This is where the oppression bit kicks in). Upstairs she had seemed such a nice young lady, but in the dungeon she battered him maniacally with all forms of weapons of torture. Unsurprisingly, he wasn’t going to put up with that and, replacing himself with a member of the audience (who had to sit there, expecting torture, until the end of the play), went off with his chainsaw in order to track down the unfortunate Miss Lebbos backstage and arrange for her final entrance in two black refuse sacks. The piece ends with some spoken words of advice about how to handle anger management issues. A bit late for that methinks.

A thoroughly entertaining hour of loopy comedy. Nothing phased our two performers at all and they carried on the constant repartee with the audience throughout the entire show. A privilege to witness two performances of such great energy and creativity – I really loved it.

Review – The Show Must Go On, Lead Feather Theatre Company, University of Northampton Flash Festival, Hazelrigg House, Northampton, 18th May 2016

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There’s no escaping the emotion in this tear-jerking examination of cancer sufferers and those who are left behind. If, when you saw the title, The Show Must Go On, you thought of the Queen song fronted by Freddie Mercury, then ten points to you – and it is indeed a highly emotional lyric about survival against all the odds. If, like me, you thought of Leo Sayer, then lie about your age, take a minus mark and go to the back of the class.

Beautifully structured, we are presented with three interweaving scenarios. There is the story of Alice, a perfectly ordinary young woman, who still has to help her useless brother with his tie, and whose best friend wants them to sing (inappropriately) with a thrash metal band; she discovers she has cancer. There is the story of Tracy, kind-hearted and down to earth, married to Bill whom she loves dearly despite all his faults; she receives a ghastly diagnosis and hasn’t long to live. There is the story of Gareth, a feeble stand-up comedian who does his act sitting down, unable to face the future without knocking back too many JDs, telling progressively more upsettingly black jokes about the cancer that is going to kill his wife.

But it’s not all grave, if you’ll pardon the pun. The harsh reality of the subject matter is juxtaposed with several humorous moments – there is always going to be black comedy in such times. For me, the most successful was Jake Rivers’ brilliantly awful stand-up routine, carrying on with these desperately terrible jokes long after the initial humour had subsided, the agony of the character’s personal tragedy staring at us directly through Mr Rivers’ pained eyes. It was superb. All the scenes between Penelope May as Alice and Madeleine Hagerty as her friend Sally also worked extremely well, ranging from the carefree girls’ banter to the much needed loving support as the effects of the disease kick in, all done with great lightness of touch and true sincerity. The only scene which, for me, was not credible, was where two doctors were prevaricating about telling Tracy about her awful diagnosis. I appreciate it was meant to be black comedy, but, in my (reasonably limited) experience, doctors have no time to hum and hah about breaking bad news to someone. They just get on and tell you in your face and if it’s a shock then that’s tough. There was, however, a wonderful antidote to the doctors, in the form of Miss May’s portrayal of the Macmillan nurse, a character who was kindness itself, and which was accurate and believable in every way.

There were a couple of big pathos moments: Gareth’s conversation with the Macmillan nurse, when she hasn’t been informed that his wife has died – sincerely and emotionally performed by both actors; Alice’s possessions being packed away into sad little cardboard boxes whilst Miss Hagerty gave us a strong rendition of the title song. There were also references to both the late David Bowie and Sir Terry Wogan, which brought the continued relevance of how cancer is a part of everyone’s lives into sharp focus.

By the end at least two members of the audience were in tears. This was a play with a power and a passion and a message that addresses us all. It tugged on the heartstrings but I never got the sense of its being mawkish or self-indulgent; it hit just the right note. Three performances of great sensitivity were required to carry this material, and the three actors met that challenge superbly. Congratulations to all concerned!

Review – The Final Cut, La Zénna Theatre Company, University of Northampton Flash Festival, Hazelrigg House, Northampton, 18th May 2016

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The Final Cut is an astonishing, brave, informative, and emotional one woman show about Female Genital Mutilation. There. There’s no other way of saying it. In the tiny studio at Hazelrigg House, Elizabeth Adejimi conjures up a village in rural Nigeria, where tradition is compulsory and there’s no thought given to altering the practices of generations. Traditional garments hang on the washing line and by taking an item of clothing off the line and putting it on, she becomes some of the different characters in the village. Simple, but amazingly effective.

It’s all about Aminata, a young girl that Miss Adejimi brings to life with such a sense of juvenile fun. We see her in her school uniform, brushing the path, nicking the snacks, dancing to the music of the village. One word from her scary sounding mother and she’s worried that she’s heading for a smack. She gives us such an atmosphere of total innocence. She seems to have no idea what’s coming her way.

We meet her mother. A kind woman, a good woman. A loving mother and a good wife. Very traditional, she has always done what society has required of her and will ensure that she passes that tradition on. We meet her father, the hunter. In this remarkably matriarchal society, he plays no part in deciding how the daughter will be brought up. His job is to provide a home and food. And we meet the cutter – what other word is there to describe her? Again a traditional woman, who believes implicitly in the goodness of her trade, who recognises that her act is steeped in the mysteries of the past, and that she must continue to practice her art – even though she admits she doesn’t really understand why.

And finally we see Aminata again, dressed for the ceremony; scared, embarrassed, desperate for help or support from anywhere but it’s not there. She just has to yield to the tradition, lying on the floor, allowing her pants to be pulled off so the cutter can wield her knife; crying out with the searing pain; in tears of humiliation and abuse; left with as much dignity as she can muster, she has to get on with her childhood. Except that this is now seen as her becoming a woman. Probably at the age of about nine.

As you can imagine, this is an incredibly moving performance – Miss Adejimi takes us through all the emotions, of laughing with Aminata at her childish foolishness, warming to the mother as she offers us in the audience some snack refreshments in creole, fearful yet strangely respectful of the cutter lady; and finally sharing the agony and humiliation of the deed. It’s incredibly effective; she gains an instant rapport with the audience which guarantees that we are with her all the way – we feel her pain just as much as she does. You’d think this was a tough watch; but, actually, not a bit of it. Her characterisation of young Aminata is so delightful that we love spending time with her. It’s only that final, shocking scene that absolutely pulls you up sharp.

A recorded voice at the end provides some factual details about the practice of Female Genital Mutilation; at first, it seemed completely superfluous after the extraordinary emotion of that final scene. But actually it does serve a useful purpose to understand the myths and deceptions that are fed to the local people to make them comply with the barbarism. There was also a questionnaire that we were asked to complete, which did make you think again about the act directly after the play had finished, and was probably helpful in making the whole event educational as well as entertaining. And if it sounds bizarre to say the show was entertaining, then sobeit; I was hugely entertained by all the characters, the beautifully written script, and the whole presentation of the show. Admirable, brave, and superbly constructed, Miss Adejimi gives us a total tour de force. First class from start to finish. This little production deserves a life outside of this festival.

Review – 100 Acre Wood, Nonsens!cal Theatre, University of Northampton Flash Festival, Castle Hill United Reform Church, Northampton, 17th May 2016

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Deep in the Hundred Acre Wood, where Christopher Robin plays, you’ll find the enchanted neighbourhood of Christopher’s childhood days. Hmm. I reckon that if your enchanted neighbourhood was made up of the inhabitants of this household, any Christopher Robin worth his salt would run a mile. But there is a link between A A Milne’s cuddly cosy children’s characters and these four troubled beings – they’re all (loosely) based on Christopher Robin’s pals. It’s a clever device and works very well, although the play itself is enjoyable and engaging enough to stand alone without any reference to Pooh.

When we entered the auditorium, Eddie was seated at the front of the stage, nervously waiting for an appointment with his counsellor where we discovered that he has had a breakdown following the death of his father in Afghanistan. Behind him, three oafs in a bed, which made an amusing contrast, but you appreciated absolutely why Eddie was anxious about returning back to the house-share with what would likely be not terribly understanding mates. However, he does pluck up courage and return home, and during the course of the play you see him attempt to re-integrate back into his old society and also see how his domestic partners (the aforementioned oafs) also have their own devils to cope with. There’s the neurotic and tidiness-obsessed Rachel, with her cleaning routines and her minute repositioning of furniture; the hale and hearty but prone to anger Tommy, who tries to bully the rest of the group into doing what he wants; and the apparently carefree William (Trespassers William, perhaps?) who suddenly becomes aware that his voracious appetite is not just something to entertain others with but is a serious health problem – both mental and physical.

I don’t know if the cast remember the TV series The Young Ones (surely they’re too young) but it strongly reminded me of that show with its wayward household of lovable miscreants, who lived in a surreal house with a talking fridge and other soft furnishings with opinions. 100 Acre Wood also has cupboard doors with a mind of their own and a talking fridge – no special effects, just an actor with a door in front of his face. It was so silly that it was very funny – but never over-the-top so that it got in the way of the serious message of the play. It also has a really well written and spoken sarcastic and surreal narration. There’s a lot going on there! No wonder Rachel was so neurotic. Freedom for eggs!

The cast gelled together extremely well and gave a really strong performance throughout. I thought Jared Gregory carried off Eddie/Eeyore’s general moroseness with great aplomb; that first scene, in particular, I found very moving and absolutely believed in the character’s plight and distress. His sense of embarrassment, and his simple inability to express himself was really well conveyed. Top work sir! I also thought Kieran Hansell was excellent as William/Pooh, channelling his inner James Corden with his hail fellow well met façade, hiding further distress. The scene with the honey (or hunny, I suppose) was one of those Ayckbournian moments when you start laughing heartily at what is ostensibly a really funny moment then the laughter catches in your throat as you realise you’re watching someone fall apart. There were opportunities for that scene to be played even more – shall we say… distastefully – and on reflection I think that discretion was the better part of valour.

Danni-Louise Ryan’s Rachel/Piglet successfully made us feel anxious with her own anxiety, fluttering around the set cleaning and moving things, never able to relax, lacking the courage and/or character to join in the lads’ fun, but not wanting to anyway because of the mess they would make. There was a wonderful scene between her and Mr Gregory when she suspects that he is plucking up courage to confess lurve, but in fact what he wants to tell her about his therapy. It was both funny and sad, as neither got to give or hear the message they wanted to convey. There was an excellent stagecraft moment when some paper cups that had been sent flying in an earlier scene and landed by Mr Smallmind’s feet, were retrieved by Miss Ryan for a later scene. And we just thought she’d forgotten to pick them up earlier, more fool us. I also enjoyed the robust performance by Elliot Holden as Tommy/Tigger, bouncing around the room and leaving a path of destruction in his wake. His was perhaps the character with the least light and shade to it, but he has great stage presence, and I loved his confidence and the clarity of his voice, which is something never to be underestimated!

A really good mix of the surreal and the harshness of reality, producing four excellent performances and hugely enjoyed by the audience. Definitely one of the best shows of the festival!

Review – Red Inquisition, Memoir Theatre, University of Northampton Flash Festival, Castle Hill United Reform Church, Northampton, 17th May 2016

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When I was growing up, the fall-out from American McCarthyism was still a Pretty Big Thing. He was the paranoid senator who interrogated creative artists to sniff out subversive communists from within their midst. To what extent the “red threat” was a real danger to America, or was just the paranoia of the times, is probably a matter of conjecture. For good measure, he also encouraged discrimination against homosexuals too, so he was obviously an awfully nice chap.

I always really enjoy plays, songs, films, books and so on that examine their own creative process – often it is the spark of creative genius. Spandau Ballet’s True is about how to write the song “True”. The French Lieutenant’s Woman (particularly the film) is all about how to make the film of “The French Lieutenant’s Woman”. Red Inquisition starts with our three actors discussing the benefits or otherwise of their new rehearsal space (which just so happens to be the space we’re sitting in) and what the subject of their new show will be. For me, this sense that the actors are sharing the same experience as the audience (and vice versa), living in the same surroundings, and breathing the same air is the stuff of theatrical electricity; and I was instantly captivated by that opening scene – which was also extremely funny, with all three performers demonstrating terrific comic ability. They consider a number of possible themes for the new play, running them up the flagpole to see if anyone salutes, until they discover a book about McCarthy and his witch hunts. The subject matter fascinates them – and a show is born.

It is indeed fascinating material; and they’ve dug deep into the archives to find footage of three particular McCarthy victims – Lena Horne, Arthur Miller and Charlie Chaplin. Three people who, by virtue of their creative genius, totally changed the world. Relevant video footage is compared with the actors’ own interpretations/impersonations of these people, bringing black and white memories sharply into today’s focus. I would say that it was much more effective when they were reviving live performance, such as Ciara Goldsberry’s beautiful singing of Lena Horne classics, or Jaryd Headley’s accurate recreation of the Chaplin gait; less so when they simply repeated scenes on video that they had already acted out. Mr Headley gave us a strong and moving portrayal of Chaplin, the effect of which was weakened by the on-screen repetition of the same words. We didn’t need to see that proof, we already believed you!

Daniel Hadjivarnava had the toughest job trying to make Arthur Miller come to life, because, as the video footage showed, in real life he was a very dull man! It may sound like a back-handed compliment to say that Mr Hadjivarnava portrayed Miller with considered accuracy, but actually I was very impressed with the way he captured him. Ms Goldsberry conveyed Lena Horne’s immense dignity and star quality with excellent understanding and insight; and Mr Headley absolutely brought Chaplin to life with his rather neurotic watching of old classics and tentative trying-out of new routines, needily relying on the support of others. He was also absolutely 100% confident in his delivery of every line and was a pleasure to watch.

There was a joke about Uta Hagen: four things I didn’t know about her. It sent the (majority of student) audience into paroxysms of hilarity. My fellow blogger and I sat in stony silence. Was it an in-joke? Or were we just stupid? The latter I can entirely believe. If it’s the former – don’t alienate sections of your audience into feeling like second class citizens, it doesn’t make them feel valued! I also thought there was a missed opportunity to make the content more relevant by concentrating on Miller’s Death of a Salesman and not on The Crucible, his allegory about McCarthy. Maybe they thought it was too obvious?

The choice of video at the end was inspired, powerfully showing how all these great talents triumphed through their adversity and regained their reputations and honour in the long run. Quite right too, a very positive and uplifting note on which to end. Fascinating subject matter given thoughtful treatment and with some excellent performances. Most enjoyable!

Review – Him, Just Bear Theatre Company, University of Northampton Flash Festival, St. Peter’s Church, Marefair, Northampton, 16th May 2016

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I’m going to add an additional first paragraph to the words I had already decided to write about this production, because, beforehand, I simply didn’t understand the play but now I have read someone else’s review of it, I could kick myself for having been so obtuse. The play now makes much more sense to me. However, I didn’t get it at the time, and there’s no point pretending I did. So, with that little aside out of the way, here are my original thoughts about Him. And I only wish I could be more generous.

As Snoopy might have written, it was a dark and stormy night… But there is an old church that serves as a refuge for Happy; he has done his best to make it comfortable with a music system, a kettle, a sofabed and his girlfriend – Her. Three portentous knocks at the door disturb their domestic peace. Fearing the worst, Happy gets the girl to run and hide before the intruder finally enters. They don’t recognise each other at first, but eventually Isaac (the new arrival) reveals that he does indeed know Happy and they go back… way back when. Quite what their previous relationship was we don’t really know. I think it involved Her, but it might not be the same Her as this Her. Eventually, when Happy is satisfied that there is no danger and he wants to introduce her to Isaac, he goes and brings her back on stage.

And that, gentle reader, is the point at which you either love this play or you find it so unfathomable that the temptation is to give up trying to understand what’s going on. Now, believe me, I do appreciate the enormous amount of time, effort, originality, talent and so many other excellent elements that go to make up the creation of a live performance. And I am the last person to want to discourage or take pleasure in anyone’s failures. I will always look for the good things in a theatre performance because I want to enjoy myself and it’s the good things that help you do that. But if, at the end of the day, you conclude that you really didn’t enjoy it at all, there is no point keeping a review blog unless you say so. Alas.

Back to the play and the reappearance of Her. As your loyal and faithful reviewer, I did my utmost to keep up with the nuances of the writing; but what you’re presented with is something, on the face of it, so ludicrous, that I really had to battle to keep engaged or find any positives. All I can say for certain is that she is not her as we have known Her. She may be a metaphor for… something? She may have different significance for different people. She may be real to one and false to the other. Or, the whole thing might just be Theatre of the Absurd in extremis. I like to think I wouldn’t have been one of the people who walked out on the first night of Waiting for Godot, but maybe I would…? And why Chuck Berry? Maybe I was supremely slow on the uptake on this one, but I would have liked to have been thrown just some tiny morsel of understanding – give the audience a break, guys!

Jack Alexander Newhouse spoke Happy’s lines so quietly overall that it was really hard to make out much of what he said – and I was sitting in the second row of pews! Surely from the back of the church it would have resembled a silent movie. His facial expressions were good but again minimalistic so you got precious little sense of drama. It was as though you were observing someone’s conversations from a long way away, when you wouldn’t expect to get any sense of what they were talking about. Neizan Fernandez Birchwood’s projection as Isaac was stronger and clearer – although I would still have liked more – and I liked his subtle questioning of his friend’s sanity when Her returns. But that I’m afraid was not enough to sustain approx. 75 minutes of bewilderment.

Ask yourself this question: you are seeking shelter on a cold and stormy night; you find a church; you say to yourself, this could be the perfect place to spend the night. You walk up to the door. What do you do? What I would do is try the door handle. If it is locked I would sigh, leave and find somewhere else to shelter. If it was unlocked, I would slowly open the door to make sure I wasn’t disturbing some service or vigil, and if it appeared to be unoccupied, enter. What I would not do is to thump, portentously, three times on the front door to be allowed into an unlocked church by people you don’t even know are in there. So why did Isaac do that? If there’s a good reason, then it shows that I really didn’t understand the plot at all; if there isn’t a good reason, then…why add further to the incredulity of the whole play?

Regrets to everyone involved but this really did not do it for me at all.

Review – X or Y, Infuse Theatre Company, University of Northampton Flash Festival, Castle Hill United Reform Church, Northampton, 16th May 2016

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I’m dipping my toes even further into the murky world of student drama, encouraged by my friends and co-bloggers Mr Smallmind and Mr Mudbeast. This is my first experience of the Flash Festival, an annual season of plays devised and performed by 3rd year students of drama at the University of Northampton. It’s a major part of their course, indeed it’s their dissertation, and so the performances are judged as part of their degree process – so it’s very important. Think of the jury final at Eurovision but with less glitter. Over the course of the first four days, I ended up seeing ten of the thirteen plays on offer and will write about each one individually in the order in which I saw them.

X or Y takes a witty and emotional look at transgender people, both from a historical point of view and also right up to date. It starts with the early court case of Ernest Boulton and Fred Park, who, as Stella and Fanny, were arrested for indecent behaviour in 1870 as a result of their transvestism and soliciting men. We see the witnesses, the judge, the lascivious doctor who gets too much pleasure from their physical examination, and the court’s final judgment. These scenes are interspersed with individual monologues from trans people, who you certainly sense are the real words of real people today, talking about their experiences of living within their own, alien, bodies and also how their families and society as a whole treat them. There’s also a projection into the future about what a baby-selecting clinic in the year 2041 might look like – and it’s pretty grim viewing!

It’s fascinating subject matter and it was treated with immense dignity and sensitivity, even though there was plenty of humour and physical comedy to enjoy. For me there were two major strengths to this production. The first was the ensemble work of the cast, marching in time (chiefly to Blur’s Girls and Boys, nice touch) as they reposition props and chairs with immaculate accuracy between each scene, everyone helping each other with their onstage costume changes which gave the whole show great pace and fluidity. The other strength was the truly devastating nature of those individual monologues. Each speaker would stand somewhere on a pink and blue line across the stage to indicate their position on the trans spectrum, and without fail each of the accounts of life as a transgender person was extraordinarily moving. There’s a sting in the tail too, reserved for the final scene, which really adds to the emotion.

There was a “dream sequence” – that’s the best way I can describe it – where the cast develop the story through movement and physical theatre; I have to admit I wasn’t entirely sure what they were trying to achieve here and, catching the eyes of the performers, only two of them seemed to be 100% confident in what they were doing. Apart from that, the energy and rhythm of the piece were perfectly maintained throughout.

The cast were uniformly excellent; highlights included Rhiana Young for the beauty of her monologue, Grace Aitken for her ability to switch from comedy to serious in an instant, Stephanie Waugh for the relish with which she tackled the vile doctor, Annalise Taylor for that scary receptionist and Kathryn McKerrow for her sheer all round stage presence. (Forgive me if any of those names are wrong – it took a mixture of research and guesswork to establish!)

Great use of music, perfect ensemble work, and really thought-provoking material. At least one member of the audience was sobbing at the end, proof that the performance could really hit your own personal emotions hard. This is one of those great shows where you can leave the theatre a different person from the one that went in, and that’s a real triumph. If you missed it at the Flash Festival, you have another chance to catch it in July at the Bedford Festival.

Review – Days of Significance, University of Northampton BA (Hons) Acting, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 18th March 2016

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And so we come to the third and final of the University of Northampton’s Acting Course March season at the Royal and Derngate, and Roy Williams’ Days of Significance, which first saw the light of day at Stratford in 2007. After the strong productions of Welcome to Thebes and Blue Stockings, would this be a hat trick of excellence for the third year students? The answer is – so nearly, and that’s no fault of the actors themselves.

A bunch of drunk lads and a bunch of drunk girls clash and form alliances late at night whilst queueing to get into the club; among them are Ben, who has a relationship with Trish (although you’d not say either were monogamous) and Jamie, who is seen in a more romantic light, with Hannah. Ben and Jamie are shortly off to fight in Iraq; Ben full of bravado, the sensitive Jamie full of ill-concealed fear. The scene shifts to Iraq, and a hide-out where Ben and Jamie are holed up with two other men (ironically both played by women). Whilst Ben is making a video to send home to Trish, they are interrupted by a call to action; and the men then are suddenly plunged into the horrors of war. After the interval, we’re back in Blighty. Steve and Clare (from the drunk groups at the beginning) are getting married; Dan is Steve’s best man; Ben didn’t survive Iraq; and Jamie is back, but a changed and broken man. The usual drunken antics take place as if nothing ever happened; but Jamie is accused of some non-specific war crimes and is singled out for criticism and victimisation. He reveals that Ben also wasn’t as innocent as he has been painted. You hope (perhaps against expectation) that Steve and Clare will make a good life together; but as for the rest, their characters tainted with excess, betrayal, and worse, you feel it’s a very gloomy view of life in the future.

I really didn’t like the play at all. It’s full of unsympathetic characters, depicting many of the worse aspects of human nature; and whilst there is some humour in their yobbish behaviour, and you can certainly recognise traits of yourself and your loved ones in many of the characters, it’s strangely unrewarding to do so. This play doesn’t so much illuminate the human condition, it exposes it in all its raw awfulness and makes you want to turn your back on humanity and go and run a dog’s home. I know that street drunkenness and sexual promiscuity is daily reality for many young people today – to be honest, it was ever thus, to an extent – and I would admire any attempt to portray their lives, no matter how challenging or offensive it might feel to some people. However, I don’t think this play achieves that in a particularly constructive way. I felt it constantly allowed itself to lose focus; it’s as though it can’t decide who its protagonists are, so that it dips in and out of people’s lives, roots around to see what’s going on, but doesn’t really get to the heart of any of the problems or issues, before moving on and taking a superficial examination of someone else.

This play (and/or production) also didn’t do the job of storytelling as clearly or succinctly as the other two in the season. There are a few Brechtian Verfremdungseffekten (I know, get me) that stop you from identifying with or fully appreciating the characters. The jeering, drunken behaviour in the first scene acts overwhelms you and creates a barrier to understanding the motivations and characteristics of the people involved. The opening part of the second scene, in Iraq, shows Ben and his mates larking about in front of the video camera but I personally found it very difficult to make out everything they said, so again the details that might help you form a bond with the characters were lost. Nothing more annoying in a play than not to be able to hear the words properly! The behaviour for which Jamie will go on trial after Iraq is deliberately obfuscated, so you rely on nuance and suggestion to understand precisely what went on. Some of the male characters are played by women, and no matter how talented those actors are, again it creates a falsehood about the whole presentation. One of these characters was required to dangle a prosthetic penis in front of the group of girls in a show of masculine derring-do, which actually just emphasised the artificiality of the situation. One wonders how they would have tackled the tackle if it had been a male actor in the role. All these aspects contributed towards a lack of understanding between the cast and the audience; as a result, the actors have an uphill task in projecting themselves to the audience, and sometimes that’s a big ask.

That said, there were some tremendous performances that really socked you in the face and demanded your attention. I really enjoyed Aoife Smyth as Trish; bold, attitudinal, fearless – she reminded me a little of what Catherine Tate’s Lauren would behave like in five years’ time. She delivered her character’s lines with immense relish and confidence, and although you’d mark her as a true survivor, she also conveyed the vulnerability that sits just below her surface – an excellent performance. I also thought Penelope May gave a great performance as Hannah, showing a refreshingly softer side as she dances with Jamie, whilst still able to give as good as she gets in arguments with the others. There’s a very uncomfortable scene towards the end of the play with Jake Rivers as Lenny, her step-father, where she runs riot with her sexual fantasies. I thought both actors took that difficult subject matter with terrific bravery and sensitivity too.

Elizabeth Adejimi was excellent as the drunk Clare at her wedding reception, beautifully picking her way through her words on a knife-edge of inebriation; and also as the Sergeant in the war scene, conveying the character’s show of bravado to keep the men’s spirits up whilst concealing his own deep terror and agony. Both Daniel Gray and Stuart Warren were on great form as Steve and Dan, especially, I felt, in the wedding scene (which was in fact by far the most dramatic and satisfying scene to watch). Both Sophie Guiver and Matilda Hunt rose to the challenge of taking on the male roles of Ben and Tony/Sean, and did a good job of nailing male characteristics and behaviour, but inevitably there was a sense of slight pantomime due to its lack of realism.

I truly admired the courage and commitment of the cast towards this difficult play – but I do feel it was a poor choice. I am no prude; I love to be challenged in the theatre. I love to come out of a play a different person from the one who went in. Throw all the invective and shock tactics at me that you can; shake me up and disturb me. Give me nightmares. Sadly, this play does none of those.