Review: Voices From Home at Theatre503

Since its inception in 2017, Broken Silence Theatre’s Voices From Home has been championing new writers from across the South East, and more importantly from outside the capital. Volume 3 found the event in a new home at Theatre503 and showcasing five original pieces on a variety of themes and covering a broad emotional spectrum.

Anatomy of a Victim by Rachel Tookey (Surrey) is an intriguing and slightly unsettling piece about the murder of a young woman. The play starts with an unsentimental laying out of the facts from A (Abbi Douetil) and B (Ella Dorman-Gajic), who are a bit disappointed at the clichéd nature of the young woman’s disappearance, and convinced they’ve just uncovered a huge miscarriage of justice. Which is all well and good, until we’re taken back to the beginning of the story, and meet Rebecca (Hatty Jones) – the victim – who at this point is still alive and well and full of plans for the future, as she tells her friend about a frightening encounter she’s just had with the boyfriend that A and B are so keen to exonerate. The play ends on an abrupt and ambiguous note, leaving us to make up our own minds about what really happened that night, and slightly chastened by the realisation that behind every sensational true crime documentary, there first has to be a real victim.

From the first Kent writer to be featured in Voices From Home, Mark Daniels’ My Boys is a bittersweet portrayal of a grieving family as they take their first steps towards reconciliation after a lengthy estrangement. Stacha Hicks gives a particularly powerful performance as the newly widowed but still delightfully stoical Pauline, alongside David Ellis and Steven Jeram as her sons Jamie and Lenny. Tomorrow is the funeral of their late dad Len, and as he lies in his open casket, the remaining family members finally have a chance to say all the things they couldn’t say before – but have they left it too late? Funny and sad in equal measure, this enjoyable play about family and forgiveness will make you want to call your loved ones (especially if you’ve not seen them in a while) just to say hi.

Also on the topic of grief, Like and Subscribe by Berkshire’s Rachel Causer sees another awkward reunion, this time between two former best friends. One, Polly (Alanna Flynn), has gone on to become a successful podcaster, while the other, Kas (Antonia Salib), has been struggling to come to terms with her mum’s death. With Polly portrayed as superficial and self-absorbed, we’re immediately inclined to dislike both her and her brand of forced positivity, particularly when she appears to be trying to capitalise on her friend’s grief. But things aren’t quite as simple as they seem, and behind the weird podcast voice and fixed grin, there’s more to Polly’s positivity than meets the eye. Like and Subscribe is a witty and relatable story about friendship and the lengths we’re prepared to go to convince the rest of the world we’re fine – even when we’re anything but.

In Losers by Precious Alabi (Essex), two complete strangers meet outside a club. It’s 31st October 2019, and Her (Dominique Moutia) is having a bad night when she runs into Him (Andy Sellers). He thinks she’s superficial, she thinks he’s rude – but as the minutes tick down towards Brexit, they realise that maybe they have more in common than they thought. Though it may sound like it, Losers isn’t really a political play; it’s about two human beings finding a brief connection in a world that’s not treating either of them particularly well, and the many ways in which we make assumptions about others based on first impressions. The conclusion – in which Her has a revelation about how badly she’s behaved – feels a little bit too neat and tidy, but were the piece to be expanded into something longer, there’s potential here for some really interesting character development on both sides.

Last but by no means least, My first time was in a parking lot by Phoebe Wood from Norfolk is a powerful and disturbing story of one woman’s teenage trauma and the lasting impact it’s had on her life, relationships and mental health. Though Mira (Eleanor Grace) talks about her first time with seeming nonchalance, each time she returns to the story it becomes a little clearer that there was a lot more to it than we first thought – and not in a good way. Eleanor Grace gives a brilliant solo performance as this complex character who masks her pain with humour, and while it’s difficult to watch, at the same time this is the kind of piece you want to see again because there’s so much detail in those few short minutes.

With high quality writing, direction and acting across the board, the third outing for Voices From Home was as enjoyable, varied and thought-provoking as the previous two, and as always, it’s refreshing to see talent from outside London being given a voice. Roll on the next one…

For more details about Voices From Home, visit brokensilencetheatre.com or follow @BrokenSilenceT

Review: Othello: Remixed at Omnibus Theatre

Updated and relocated to a London boxing club in 2019, Intermission Theatre Company’s reimagined Othello is an accessible and creative take on a Shakespearean classic. Othello (Kwame Reed) is the club’s star boxer, and when he chooses Michael Cassio (Micah Loubon) as his cornerman for the upcoming championship fight, a bitter Iago (Baba Oyejide) hatches a plan to bring him down. Taking emotional and financial advantage of Rico (Iain Gordon), who fancies Othello’s girlfriend Desdemona (Hoda Bentaher), Iago convinces Othello that she’s cheated on him with Cassio, and in doing so unleashes a violent chain of events that will ultimately end in tragedy.

Photo credit: Richard Jinman

Using the plot and key themes of Shakespeare’s original as a starting point, director Darren Raymond breathes new life into this story of jealousy, insecurity and deception. The dialogue interweaves Shakespearean verse with street slang, and also skilfully incorporates mobile phone use and a contemporary soundtrack, all of which makes the plot easier to follow and more relatable to a modern London audience (Othello and Desdemona being spotted together in Nando’s is a particularly nice touch). The action moves much faster than in the original, too, shaving a good hour off the traditional running time to come in at just two hours including interval, without losing any of the essential plot details.

Also interesting is the addition of a new character, the Referee, who acts as a physical embodiment of the jealousy that provokes both Iago and Othello into their actions. Played with sinuous malice by Danielle Adegoke, the Referee takes away a little of the responsibility from each man – while both are undeniably guilty, the audience is invited to question what led them to commit these crimes, instead of condemning them both out of hand as bad people. The play’s conclusion is also less bloody than the original, the violence less ruthless, and there’s an unexpected twist at the end that has the potential to write a very different story. (Sequel, anyone?)

The cast is made up of graduates from the Intermission Youth Theatre, which was set up to give opportunities to vulnerable young people from disadvantaged backgrounds. By setting the action in a boxing club which was established with the same goal in mind, Raymond paves the way for performances that feel grounded in reality. This is particularly true for Kwame Reed as Othello; throughout Act 1 he comes across as a decent guy who’s trying to leave behind a troubled past by channelling his aggression into something productive, whereas in Act 2 we see how easily and terrifyingly that pent-up violence can be misdirected. Baba Oyejide is also strong as Iago, confidently manipulating everyone around him – including the audience, who laugh along on more than one occasion – with a subtle mix of humour, veiled threat, and an occasional nod to the by now well-known concept of “fake news”.

Photo credit: Richard Jinman

It’s testament to the quality of the production that even if you know how the story ends, the final scene – in which the full impact of Iago’s scheming is realised by everyone – is still incredibly powerful and more than a little tense. For those who don’t know the story, meanwhile, or for those who’ve never had the opportunity or inclination to see Shakespeare done the “traditional way”, Othello: Remixed is an ideal introduction. In touching on topical issues like knife and gun crime, drugs, discrimination, misogyny and the disaffection of young people in the UK today, the production demonstrates how Shakespeare’s work speaks for, and should therefore be available to, everyone. It’s fresh, fun and action-packed with an explosive finale, and I can’t imagine Shakespeare would want it any other way.

Review: Dark Sublime at Trafalgar Studios

Marianne (Marina Sirtis) is an actress, best known for her role in cult 70s sci-fi TV show The Dark Sublime. She’s done plenty of other acting work in the intervening four decades but the role of Ragana is the one she can’t shake off, even though to her, it’s the one that means the least. When Dark Sublime superfan Oli (Kwaku Mills) – who wasn’t even born when the series first aired on TV – tracks her down, an unlikely friendship develops. But what begins as an opportunity for Marianne to bask in the glory of her past ultimately forces her to confront the complications of her present, and in particular the unrequited love she feels for her best friend Kate (Jacqueline King).

Photo credit: Scott Rylander

One of the production’s biggest draws (the other being Mark Gatiss as the voice of a robot) is star Marina Sirtis, who is herself well known for playing the role of Deanna Troi in seven series of Star Trek: The Next Generation. While writer Michael Dennis didn’t create the role of Marianne specifically for Sirtis, he could very well have done, and this gives the character a sense of genuine depth; each time she expresses bewilderment at the unquestioning adoration of her fans, the audience understands that the emotion comes from a real place.

Real world parallels aside, Sirtis generally impresses with her portrayal of Marianne. Though she’s always quick with a witty comeback, it’s clear quite early on that the character is also really struggling to figure out where she fits in a world that no longer seems to have a place for her. Kate has a new partner – the younger, attractive, intelligent Suzanne (Sophie Ward) – and Marianne’s acting career seems to have stalled to the point where earning even £40 feels like a windfall. It’s little wonder she jumps at the chance to meet Oli, who idolises her Dark Sublime character and reminds her of who she used to be.

Speaking of Oli, Kwaku Mills is a delight, his charm and enthusiasm lighting up the room every time he’s on stage. Oli has issues of his own that mirror Marianne’s – he’s also in love with his best friend, but unlike Marianne, he’s prepared to do something about it. Much is made of his youth and his obsession with The Dark Sublime, as if those are reasons to dismiss him, and yet he repeatedly shows more maturity and a deeper understanding of the world than Marianne, who prefers to drown her problems in alcohol.

During one of their early conversations, Marianne reveals to an excited Oli that another episode of the show was written but never shown on TV, scenes from which are revealed intermittently throughout the show. These are, for the most part, played for laughs by Simon Thorp, who’s clearly enjoying himself immensely as the heroic Commander Vykar (and just as much in a brief appearance in the real world as obnoxious actor Bob). So it comes as something of a surprise when the final scene, which brings in the whole cast, gets pretty deep and is ultimately revealed to be symbolic of Marianne’s own personal journey.

Tim McQuillen-Wright’s attractive and intimate set design places us right in Marianne’s living room, although not all the action takes place there. There’s a console cunningly concealed in the coffee table, suitably 70s sci-fi lighting when called for, and a TV screen that doubles as a backdrop when scenes occur elsewhere. This sort of works, although the size of the screen isn’t really sufficient to properly distract us from the stylish decor of the flat and convince us we’re really in the park or a cheap hotel.

Photo credit: Scott Rylander

The other issue with the play is that at 2 hours 40 minutes it just feels a bit longer than it needs to be. Even before bringing in the deleted scenes from the TV show, there are several plot threads going on – Marianne’s career and her relationships with both Kate and Oli, Oli’s friendship with Joel (who never actually appears), Kate’s romance with Suzanne – and in tying them all up the script begins at times to feel slightly sluggish and repetitive. That said, the closing scene, which references the poem by W.H. Auden that gives the play its title, is rather lovely and feels like a fitting end to the story.

For fans of British TV from the 70s and 80s, Dark Sublime is probably a bit of a must-see, if only so you can sit and cheerily sing along to the Cadbury Fudge jingle before the play begins (yes, I did that). But there’s lots more to recommend it besides nostalgia. This is a rare personal drama about an older gay woman trying to find her place and identity in a changing world, with plenty of laughs – particularly aimed at the world of showbiz – and some interesting questions about the nature of fandom. A bit long perhaps, but still well worth a watch.

Dark Sublime is at Trafalgar Studios 2 until 3rd August.

Review: Bare: A Pop Opera at The Vaults

A couple of weeks after a priest in the USA tweeted that “Catholics should not support or attend LGBTQ ‘Pride Month’ events held in June”, Bare: A Pop Opera – the story of two teenage boys at a Catholic boarding school who are forced to keep their love a secret – feels depressingly topical. Damon Intrabartolo and Jon Hartmere’s show premiered in California nearly two decades ago, but there’s nothing historic about the issues it tackles, as is emotionally demonstrated in the powerful finale of this new London production at The Vaults.

Photo credit: Tom Grace

Set against the backdrop of a school production of Romeo and Juliet, Bare‘s own star-crossed lovers are Peter (Daniel Mack Shand) and Jason (Darragh Cowley), who know all too well the dangers of making their relationship public. While Peter tries to come out to his mum (Jo Napthine), Jason allows himself to be drawn into an ill-fated liaison with Ivy (Lizzie Emery) – with inevitably tragic consequences. Meanwhile, as the seniors prepare to graduate, Jason’s twin sister Nadia (Georgie Lovatt) and classmate Matt (Tom Hier) each deal in their own way with living in the golden boy’s shadow.

The show tackles several important issues, and on the whole does so pretty well, though the storyline feels at times a bit predictable. Intrabartolo’s rock score, performed by Alasdair Brown’s band from the balcony at one end of the theatre, is not instantly memorable but still exciting enough to hold our attention, and there are several highlights among the extensive list of musical numbers; it has the feel of a soundtrack that would really grow on you after a few repeat listens. Though the cast is universally solid, it’s the female vocalists who really stand out, especially Georgie Lovatt (in a sensational professional debut), Lizzie Emery and – not altogether surprisingly – X Factor USA finalist Stacy Francis as the delightfully exasperated Sister Chantelle.

Julie Atherton’s production gets a lot of things right, and showcases some considerable talent among its young cast. Unfortunately, though, the staging at The Vaults feels badly thought through, and results in an audience experience that isn’t nearly as enjoyable or comfortable as the show and its hardworking cast deserve. A very long, narrow stage and poor venue acoustics mean that frequently lyrics and dialogue go unheard by half the audience because the actor’s so far away, and with the stage raised at eye level, parts of the action get completely hidden from view by whatever’s happening in the foreground. In addition, there’s a thrust stage out into the auditorium that means part of the audience must watch a lot of the action over their shoulder – including the big finale, which takes place towards the back of the room – and run the risk of being dazzled by spotlights at fairly regular intervals.

Photo credit: Tom Grace

It’s a pity that we don’t get to see everything that happens, because what we do see is visually very striking. At the rear of Libby Watson’s otherwise functional set, forbidding religious art looks down on the teenagers, while at the other end stands a single tree covered in glorious autumnal foliage, the significance of which only becomes clear in the show’s emotional closing moments. Andrew Ellis’ lighting design brings extra vibrancy to certain key scenes, particularly when coupled with Stuart Rogers’ choreography.

Recent headlines have made it all too clear that Bare is a story the world still needs to hear, and this production is a decent attempt at telling it. In a different venue, it’s easy to imagine the show making quite an impact; unfortunately in its current home, it just misses the mark.

Bare: A Pop Opera is at The Vaults until 4th August.

Review: Hedgehog at the Lion and Unicorn Theatre

Remember being a teenager, when the most important thing in the world was what other people thought of you? Yep, me too. And so does Manda (Zöe Grain), the protagonist in Alexander Knott’s Hedgehog; she’s living it right now, and it’s not going so well. She’s just lost her job at the local vet – over a hedgehog, of all things – and her parents are in the slow and painful process of splitting up. Her “friends” seem barely to even tolerate let alone like her, and every time she meets a nice guy, she thinks he’s the one… until she finds out he definitely isn’t.

Photo credit: Charles Flint Photography

The problem is that it’s the 90s, she’s a teenager, and nobody’s told her that it’s okay to not be okay. So Manda puts on a smile and gets dressed up for a night out she knows she won’t enjoy, at a club she’s too young to legally be in, where she’ll down shot after shot in a futile attempt to smother her fear, loneliness and insecurity, and – even if just for a moment – to try and make sure that someone actually sees her.

Though Hedgehog is essentially a monologue and has the feel of a one-woman show, Manda is not in fact alone on stage. She’s joined throughout by “Them” (Lucy Annable and Emily Costello), who not only take on the role of all the people in Manda’s life, but also become the little whispering voices in her head that tell her she’s not good enough, not cool enough, not lovable enough. This brings Manda’s turmoil and desperate need for validation out of her head and gives it a physical manifestation that’s perfectly embodied by Lucy Annable and Emily Costello. The two of them are a constant, vibrant and versatile presence on stage, but without ever distracting from Zöe Grain’s brilliant central performance.

What makes the story of Hedgehog so sad, and at the same time such an absorbing 70 minutes of theatre, is that Manda seems great. She’s funny, caring and refreshingly down to earth, she really does look amazing in her pink prom dress, and she does an awesome Spice Girls dance routine. Grain engages fearlessly with the audience from the moment the play begins, and we like her from the off – which is why it’s so hard to watch her chasing the approval of her awful “best friend” Claire, her absent mum or her latest crush, just to make herself feel better.

Photo credit: Charles Flint Photography

Set to a soundtrack that incorporates 90s classics alongside original composition from Sam Heron and James Demaine, Hedgehog is a fast-paced and often unpredictable ride. Timelines get tangled, scenes switch in the blink of an eye, and the audience is not so much carried as dragged along with Manda as she reaches the point that will either break her or give her the fresh start she so desperately needs. The emotional climax of Georgia Richardson’s production is particularly powerful, a poignantly simple and unexpected moment of human connection that anyone who’s ever felt alone or helpless can’t fail to be moved by. Insightful, relatable and beautifully performed, this play is a must-see – and let’s hope, unlike the eponymous hedgehog, it has a long life ahead.