reality TV – Theatre Things

You could be forgiven for not realising that The Jailer’s Daughter is based on a Shakespeare creation (or rather co-creation, in collaboration with John Fletcher), which was itself based on Chaucer. It’s not just that the title’s different, or that The Two Noble Kinsmen is less well-known than many of Shakespeare’s other works. No, the main reason you wouldn’t immediately make the connection is that this reality TV-inspired play is about as far from the early 17th century as you can get.

In the original, the jailer’s daughter is a lovesick teenager victimised by every male figure in her life and ultimately driven mad by her unrequited desire for an indifferent prince. Not so in Esther Joy Mackay’s reimagined version, where Julia (Grace Hussey-Burd) is one of the few characters who’s actually seeing clearly. Unfortunately her father – The Jailer (Josh Sissons), a Big Brother-esque reality TV boss – has other ideas, especially after she causes a scene in the production room by protesting his show’s moral and ethical shortcomings. Before she knows it, Julia’s in the “lockup” herself, alongside various D-list celebrities, all of them serving time on the show as punishment for crimes committed on the outside. And then there’s Palamon (Rory Gradon), the jewel in the Jailer’s crown – quite literally as it turns out, because he happens to be an actual real-life prince. Naturally, the nation wants a love story… and one way or another, the Jailer is going to make sure they get it.

In a clever twist, Mackay gives the audience a degree of control over how the story unfolds, by setting up a series of votes throughout the show. These are conducted via voting pads handed out at the start of the evening, which add a fun, unpredictable element to the story – even though the questions posed, with one possible exception, never feel like real game-changers. Given the nature of some of the challenges and punishments we’ve seen and heard being handed out (electric shocks, solitary confinement, being made to eat raw chicken or drink all the booze in the house), I was expecting to be faced with tougher choices and to feel more complicit in the characters’ fates. But perhaps that’s just me – and the fact is the reality TV angle does work very well; anyone who’s ever enjoyed, however guiltily, watching Big Brother, Love Island or I’m a Celebrity will spot plenty of references to geek out over.

Under Sarah Fox’s polished direction, the cast slip effortlessly between playing captors and captives (though there are a few moments during the chaotic group scenes when the traverse staging makes it difficult to catch all of the dialogue). It’s no surprise that the two lead male roles, Palamon – the one who’s actually lovesick – and William (Saem Ahmed) the show’s in-house doctor, have been written as blandly boring nice guys, in contrast to Julia’s fiery determination to bring her dad’s entire project crashing to the ground, come what may. Grace Hussey-Burd is a force of nature as the newly reclaimed jailer’s daughter, making it clear from the start that she has a mind of her own and she’s not afraid to use it. And it’s a pity we don’t get to see more of Rachel Wilkes’ brusquely sympathetic Cleo, a former athlete with her own reasons for objecting to the show’s policy of forcing contestants into couples.

The Jailer’s Daughter is based on a great idea, and certainly succeeds in its aim of bringing the nameless teenager of Shakespeare and Fletcher’s play into the light and giving her her own story and identity. From a technological point of view, too, the production is brilliantly executed – lighting, sound and the masterstroke of the voting pads all combine to create a true multimedia experience for the audience. For me, the delivery of the final climactic scene lacked a little bit of drama, but the plot twist is really well written and does genuinely catch you off guard (though who knows, it could be totally different next time). A topical and entertaining take on a 400-year-old play, this is a production that both reality TV fans and cynics alike will enjoy – and then probably debate fiercely all the way home.

The Jailer’s Daughter is at The Space until 24th August.

In a world of reality TV and social media, it’s all too easy to fall into the habit of obsessively observing other people’s lives, and then comparing them to our own. In Ron Elisha’s Window, this voyeurism reaches new heights when married couple Grace and Jimmy spot their neighbours having sex, seemingly at all hours of the day and night.

It all begins as a bit of slightly naughty fun, even helping to rekindle the dormant sex life of the exhausted new parents. But when Grace falls pregnant with their second child, her interest in the young, beautiful couple across the way – in her mind, an earlier version of herself and Jimmy – starts to develop into an unhealthy obsession that affects her work, health and family life.

The two-hander play deals sensitively with issues of pre- and post-natal depression, with Idgie Beau giving a strong performance as an increasingly distressed Grace. Charles Warner is equally impressive as Jimmy, whose initial amusement soon gives way to concern for the wellbeing of his wife and baby, balanced against his frustration over her neglect of their family. Although there are moments in the story of their relationship that feel unlikely, the actors’ portrayal of it is entirely convincing.

Covering five years without ever leaving the couple’s bedroom, it would have been easy for scenes to run together, but director Dave Spencer breaks up the action with costume changes and brief musical interludes, while references in the script keep us up to speed on how much time has passed. Even so, things do start to slow ever so slightly towards the end, as the subjects of Grace’s obsession go through a personal crisis, and she dissolves again and again into panicked tears on their behalf while Jimmy tries to console her. It’s only when she finally takes action that the cycle is broken, and Grace’s recovery can begin – a moment that’s beautifully played by the actors but in terms of plot development feels a bit too neat, given all that’s gone before.

There are a few other moments where we’re required to suspend our disbelief in order to make the story work: the fact that the neighbours would never, in five years, consider closing the curtains or turning the light off, for instance; or that given the ever more blatant gawking from Grace and Jimmy, who can clearly see every detail, the other couple would never notice them. But that’s what makes the play such a perfect metaphor for social media – by putting our lives on display, we effectively open the curtains and allow anyone to see in. We know they’re there, and we kind of like it that way… but providing others with free access to our everyday lives means they inevitably see the bad as well as the good.

The situation in which Grace and Jimmy find themselves is one that the vast majority of us will never need to deal with (or let’s hope not, anyway) – but that doesn’t stop Window being highly relevant to a generation that’s as addicted to sharing as we are to observing. Although it could use a little more pace towards the end, this is an entertaining and unsettling new play that will definitely make you think twice about leaving the curtains open.

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… 😉

Tag: reality TV

Review: The Jailer’s Daughter at The Space