Interview: Romain Guimard, Compagnie XY

It’s been seven years since Compagnie XY, one of the leading contemporary French circus companies in the world, performed for a London audience. Now at last the company described by Lyn Gardner as “the rock’n‘roll circus where everything’s possible” return with the UK premiere of their new work, It’s Not Yet Midnight… – a show with an important and timely message about the importance of togetherness and cooperation.

“The show is about a collective of acrobats sharing their acrobatic world with the audience,” explains acrobat Romain Guimard. “It involves acrobatics, for sure, but also the way we do them as a collective, the way we train, create and live together as a collective, a group of individuals sharing our differences, fears and hopes, cooperating to foster the emergence of something greater we couldn’t achieve on our own.”

Photo credit: David Levene

It’s Not Yet Midnight (or in French, Il n’est pas encore minuit) opens at the Roundhouse on 10th April, and is the company’s third show, following the success of Le Grand C and Laissez-Porter“After Le Grand C, we wanted to create a new show with more people among the ones we met during our tours,” says Romain. “We first gathered the team, finding not necessarily the best acrobats, but the ones who could also fit in the collective, who could have something to bring to it – positive energy, generosity, nice craziness, kindness…

“We met everyone during short sessions of one or two weeks and trained together to first get a common acrobatic language, and then to use that simple language to create new words, sentences, poetry, researching all the things we could do, leaving our mind free to dream without any constraints. By that time we had two things we wanted to bring in the show: the planks, for their acrobatic possibilities, and lindy-hop for its high and joyful energy and its welcomed craziness.

“Then we joined for four months to create the show as a collective, deciding on everything together, having each of us following and leading the group within a fine balance. We had the help of an outside eye, Loïc Touze, a choreographer who gave us feedback on where the group was and who helped us reveal a true and honest image of what the collective was.”

The company are excited to be back in London, though for some members of the 22-strong troupe it’s a new experience: “Only eight of us were here last time. We remember such a great welcome we had and we’re very glad to be able to enjoy that one more time. For the others, I think that they are looking forward to it but anyway, we’re always looking forward to performing in an unknown place, in front of people we know as well as strangers. But of course, it always adds a little something to perform in a capital.”

Photo credit: David Levene

Compagnie XY are known for their jaw-dropping (and mildly terrifying) stunts – It’s Not Yet Midnight will see the acrobats catapulting each other through the air, and include the four-high human tower –  but what some may not know is that they’re a true team in every sense of the word, living and working together in a unique set-up. “The whole show would be completely different if we were operating in another way,” explains Romain. “Our way of working and living together is inherent to the show. 

“The company started with two teachers and four of their students, who wanted to keep going with the transmission of experience by extending it from training at school to touring a show. Then we met people on tour and also during acrobatic workshops we gave. At that point, we wanted to gather other experienced acrobats and recently graduated students and give a shot to extend the experience with three times more people.

“The main goal of the company is not only doing a show with collective acrobatics; the goal is to do it as a collective, allowing each of us to grow beside the others, through the others, growing the collective itself by growing all together as interdependent individuals. The show is the purpose of the collective, but doing it as a collective is as important as the show itself and I think that point makes the company one of a kind.”

And what does Romain think makes circus itself special as an art form? “Come on… elephants!” he answers. “But more seriously, I think that circus is about our fears, about overcoming ourselves, it is about challenges, it is universal, talking to everybody without any special requirements – and therefore that makes it a very popular art form.”

It’s Not Yet Midnight… is at Roundhouse from 10th-23rd April.

Review: Oyster Boy at the Marlowe Studio

Haste Theatre’s award-winning Oyster Boy was inspired by Tim Burton’s short poem, The Melancholy Death of Oyster Boy. The original title leaves little to the imagination in terms of the story’s gloomy conclusion, though Haste have given their unfortunate hero a slightly less horrific end, and the show has an altogether more light-hearted tone than Burton’s typically dark tale.

Set in 1950s Coney Island, this is the story of ice cream seller Jim (Valeria Compagnoni) who falls in love with Alice (Lexie McDougall) when he saves her from a shark. After overindulging in a French restaurant on their wedding night, nine months later the couple are taken aback when their son Sam is born with a large oyster shell-shaped head. Despite the support of his friends Molly and Polly, all the adults in the local community are horrified by the otherwise utterly inoffensive Sam, and when his parents’ attempts to find a medical solution end in failure, they’re faced with a tragic decision about his future.

The show is a perfect showcase for Haste’s creativity and versatility (not to mention multilingualism), blending music, dance, puppetry and physical theatre to bring Sam’s story to life. An empty stage is transformed into the seaside setting through knowingly simple touches: a large piece of blue cloth becomes the sea, complete with cardboard dolphins and sharks, while the cast don stick-on fake moustaches and adopt over-the-top accents, conjuring up tables and counters with nothing more than a tablecloth held by the corners. The overall effect is bright, colourful and with a charming, slightly homemade feel that proves sometimes a lot can be said with very little.

This theme continues with Sam himself, who appears only in puppet form… but don’t be fooled into thinking that means he’s not real. Skilfully manipulated by the cast, Sam very much comes to life before our eyes – even indulging in a spot of kite-surfing at one point – and demonstrates all the emotions and qualities of any other little boy. He laughs, cries, feels fear and shows courage, and this really helps to drive home the show’s message about looking past physical appearance to get to know the person underneath.

Musical interludes fill in the details of the story as time passes, with a barbershop quartet chorus (Jesse Dupré, Elly-Beaman Brinklow, Tamara Saffir and Sophie Taylor, who also each take on a multitude of roles) determinedly trying to keep things upbeat even when the story’s taking one of its darker turns. Music is also used, rather differently but no less effectively, as the show comes to its melancholy yet strangely beautiful conclusion.

The cast are clearly thoroughly enjoying themselves, hamming it up as their various larger than life characters and throwing themselves enthusiastically into the dance numbers. Occasionally it all gets a little bit manic – I must admit I slightly lost track of what was going on during the doctor scene, perhaps due to a bit of unscripted banter with an audience member – but on the whole the company’s obvious joy in what they’re doing is infectious and gives us just as many laughs as the jokes within the script.

Oyster Boy is a story about acceptance and friendship, which gets its message across even without the neat, happy ending we might expect from a family show (though it’s still not as gory as the opening lines suggest). It’s all very surreal but a lot of fun, and a great hour’s entertainment for audiences of all ages.

Oyster Boy is at Edinburgh’s Assembly George Square from 2nd-28th August.

Review: The Mutant Man at The Space

On the surface, Christopher’s Bryant’s The Mutant Man is a crime drama; we open in a courtroom, as two identically dressed actors – one male, one female – unpack an assortment of items in evidence bags. But it doesn’t take long to understand there’s a lot more going on here than a straightforward murder trial. The defendant, Harry Leo Crawford, was born Eugenia Falleni and has been living as a man for years, and when his gender identity is made public, it becomes the key piece of evidence leading to his conviction.

Photo credit: Greg Veit

The timeline of the play jumps back and forward in time, sometimes quite rapidly, piecing together Harry’s life story as he struggles to live in a body that doesn’t represent who he really is. Bryant’s language is often poetic, but holds nothing back – we get a detailed description of how Harry was able to convince not one but two wives of his anatomical masculinity, and there’s a brutally explicit account of his rape and subsequent pregnancy by a sea captain who discovered his secret. Simultaneously the court case unfolds, with characters from Harry’s past reappearing to speak against him, and both gripping stories build to a climax as we learn what really happened to Annie, and the inevitable conclusion of the trial.

The central character is played beautifully by two actors – Clementine Mills as Harry and Matthew Coulton as Eugenia – a simple yet highly effective way of separating the two personas. Eugenia is submissive, anxious and seems constantly uncomfortable in her own skin, while Harry, though played by an actor who’s physically shorter, seems far larger in stature and confidence. At one point they deliver overlapping monologues that sum up the distinction: “I’m terribly afraid,” says Eugenia, while Harry states defiantly, “I’m not afraid.” The one phrase they have in common: “I did not kill this woman.”

The two actors also play all the other characters, and herein lies one of my few gripes about the production: though some attempt is made to physically differentiate, with the actors adopting different postures and ways of speaking, it’s not always easy to tell who we’re looking at – often we’re halfway through a character’s testimony in court before we realise who they are and what relevance they have to the case.

Photo credit: Greg Veit

Though the set appears simple, the production is actually incredibly complex and rich in detail. Director Heather Fairbairn equips her actors with a range of props, which gradually emerge from those evidence bags we saw earlier and show how every detail of Harry’s past has come to be used against him. In addition, the production makes highly effective use of lamps, microphones and cameras, often projecting close-ups of evidence on to the large video screen at the back of the stage, and culminating in a powerful image that represents Harry’s confusion and disdain for his own body. There are occasional sound issues; the actors have so much to do with props to unpack and countless small costume changes as they slip from one character to the next, that at times the acoustics work against them and their words are lost – but the most important moments are delivered direct to the audience with clarity and passion.

The play doesn’t try to tell us everything, but instead gives us just enough to send us away disturbed and sufficiently intrigued to read up on Harry’s story for ourselves. Though we may comfort ourselves with the knowledge that such a travesty of justice couldn’t happen today, The Mutant Man does force us to confront the question of how gender diversity is still viewed and (mis)understood a century on from the events depicted. A gripping and thought-provoking 70 minutes, and well worth a visit.


Can’t see the map on iPhone? Try turning your phone to landscape and that should sort it. I don’t know why but I’m working on it… 😉

Review: Big Guns at the Yard Theatre

Guest review by Ross McGregor

Big Guns at The Yard is a new play by Nina Segal, after her debut at the Gate Theatre in 2016, with In The Night Time (Before The Sun Rises). Featuring a cast of two, Debra Baker and Jessye Romeo, and skilfully directed by Dan Hutton, Big Guns is a nerve-shreddingly uncomfortable watch about the anxiety of living in our modern western world where everyone is emotionally isolated but obsessively cyber-connecting.

Photo credit: Mark Douet

The plot of the piece is somewhat difficult to pin down without writing a thesis on the script, but it is perhaps best described as a dramatic poem, in a modern style, split between two voices, dealing with the growing fear of terrorism or attack, from the perspective of a forum board commenter, or serial tweeter. This ever-present sense of foreboding and threat is symbolised verbally by the oft-repeated phrase “The man with the gun…” This means that there is a third presence in the room with these women, invisible to us, unknown beyond his gender and the fact that he is armed, but still demanding that they validate, investigate and justify their own existences.

The style of the show is perhaps a visual radio play. The beauty and power of the production is in the smooth and meticulously paced patter between the two unnamed speakers, and a gorgeous horror soundscape designed by Kieran Lucas. At multiple points the stage is plunged into darkness and all we experience is either the amplified and sometimes distorted voices of the actresses, playing over a series of ominous chord progressions or precise and stilted sound effects. There is very little blocking to speak of, and the production makes no apologies for that. The performers are static and seated on the floor of the sloped stage for almost all of the production, but the whirling stream of consciousness style of the poetic text cares neither for naturalism nor visual pieces as we’re thrown somewhat chaotically through a series of interlocking vignettes, and provides all the movement that we could wish for – we just hear it instead of seeing it.

“Big Guns,” the back of the programme states, “is the prickling at the back of your neck, the faint taste of blood on your teeth, the could-be sounds of a strange figure in the semi-darkness. The YouTube clip you hope doesn’t load but can’t help watching.” And yes, Big Guns is all those things, however due to the jarring and whirling speed at which the script is delivered, as well as how the writing leaps over and through narratives with complications, contradictions and repetitions, you emerge from the play’s conclusion with not a lot more understanding of the play’s subject than when you went in.

Segal’s script is packed full of details and imagery, whipped through by Romeo and Baker with a delicious enjoyment of diction and a verve of delivery. It is confusing, mesmerising and captivating. You may not understand every second – hell, there was a good ten minutes where I possessed not a clue what was happening – but it’s done well and with enough grace that you go with it in the hope that the message might permeate your eardrums via some kind of verbal osmosis. Perhaps to some people’s tastes this might be too abstract and pretentious in terms of the script’s ambivalence for conventional narrative or character – the actors are deliberately non-characterised and are in essence interchangeable in terms of their delivery and viewpoints, but what matters is the poetry and meter of Segal’s verse, and here Baker and Romeo shine as pure masters/mistresses of their craft. Baker is in equal parts gleeful and nonchalant, but possesses moments of unbridled pathos in the face of Romeo’s antagonism and provocation. The stunningly beautiful Romeo allows Segal’s words to trip and fly from her mouth, her eyes glittering in the red darkness, drawing us in and devastating us with emotion in the final fourth-wall breaking moments of the production.

Photo credit: Mark Douet

There is an element of the production that speaks about our over-reliance on technology and social media, and our inability to restrain ourselves from online obsessions, and though I didn’t quite get how that ties into the afore/ever-mentioned “Man With The Gun”, in general the atmosphere and tension created by the piece is phenomenal. It plays to our own paranoia and fears, of violence, of disruption and chaos, and it does this wonderfully well.

Obviously the topical timing with the recent attack in London pushes the subject matter’s concerns right to the front of our minds, but the writer is skilful enough to not languish on gratuity. The similarities between us and the speakers may be narrowing with every passing crisis that we face, as unfathomable violence keeps breaking into our consciousness, but ultimately the play’s message is one of positivity and togetherness. There is a way to beat the Man With The Gun. Lose the fear. Embrace acceptance, and – ironically considering the play’s lack of visual elements – open your eyes to who exactly the Man With The Gun is.

Big Guns is a powerful piece of writing that makes a good play – but potentially an even better podcast.


Can’t see the map on iPhone? Try turning your phone to landscape and that should sort it. I don’t know why but I’m working on it… 😉

Interview: Yolanda Mercy, Quarter Life Crisis

“Alicia is a hot mess. She doesn’t know where she’s going in life. But everyone around her seems to know what they are doing. What does it mean to be an adult and when do you become one?”

Yolanda Mercy is Associate Artist at Ovalhouse, winner of the Rich Mix Small Story Big City Award, a visiting lecturer for Central School of Speech and Drama and a trustee of the National Youth Association. Incredibly, she also has time to be an actor and playwright, and this Easter weekend brings her new show, Quarter Life Crisis, to Ovalhouse as part of their FiRST BiTES series.

“I’d like audiences to take away with them the element of learning that it’s okay not to know what you’re doing with your life,” explains Yolanda. “We’re constantly bombarded with stories of people who are the same age as us, but seem to have it all together. I want audiences to leave the show empowered, knowing that even if you feel like you’re lost in life, there is a way out – and sometimes the clues within our names can lay the foundation of that empowerment.”

Yolanda was inspired to write the show by her own personal experience. “I felt like I was having a Quarter Life Crisis when my friends were getting married or having babies, and my biggest worry was that I have to surrender my 16-25 railcard.

“I’ve been thinking about this show for over a year, but I started working on it at ARC in June. Since then I’ve performed extracts of it at Brainchild’s Hatch, Vault festival and Ovalhouse theatre. The feedback and responses from the audience have been overwhelming – with a lot of audiences saying, ‘this show is so funny and really relatable’. Which is such an honour because I’m constantly told by audiences who have seen my shows like On The Edge Of Me, that my work is relatable.”

So, is this just a show for young people on the verge of adulthood? “No. I would say that this show is for anyone who has experienced a Quarter Life Crisis – who’s felt like everyone around them has gotten their life together quicker than they have.”

In December 2016, Yolanda was appointed Associate Artist at Ovalhouse, and Quarter Life Crisis is the first of many exciting projects she’ll be working on over the next two years. “I’m from south London. I live 12 minutes’ walk from the Ovalhouse. 6 minutes if I’m feeling lazy and need to rent a bike,” she says. “Being at this theatre where so many artists who I admire have gone through is such a huge achievement. I’ve worked really hard alongside my team Gemma Lloyd and Jade Lewis to constantly work to make exciting, thought provoking yet honest shows. I feel honoured that we’ve already started to build a loyal audience who come to see our shows time and time again. I’m so touched that people love our work. When we were doing On The Edge Of Me, we had audiences who saw the show three times. So it’s great to have a base like Ovalhouse for my audiences to access our shows and workshops.”

The show features live music, and a special guest from the local community – and there’s an element of audience participation too, although Yolanda’s keeping the details under her hat for now. “All I can say is be prepared to join in and have some fun…”

Quarter Life Crisis is at Ovalhouse from 13th-15th April.