Showing posts with label Ailin Conant. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ailin Conant. Show all posts

Sunday, 2 July 2017

Review Mumburger


Mumburger
by Sarah Kosar

A Mother's Modest Proposal
http://www.oldredliontheatre.co.uk/theatre.html

In Sarah Kosar's surreal satire Mumburger, Tiffany (Rosie Wyatt) has just learnt she is, in her words, "a half orphan".

She and her Dad, Hugh (Andrew Frame), are left grieving for their militantly vegan Mum, after her electric car collided with a frozen food lorry, when a surprise delivery from the afterlife drops down from on high into father and daughter's bereavement limbo.

Tiffany, who is waiting to move on with her partner, had been busying herself with the bureaucracy of death and fielding calls from relatives in between watching a video news clip of a Chinese amusement park tragedy gone viral.

Hugh, stunned by his own personal tragedy, has gone into zombie-mode. He clicks "like" on all the messages of sympathy on Facebook and immerses himself in cheesy Hollywood family movies which threaten to cloud any sense of reality.

Currently there appears to be a penchant in new writing for metaphors about the new economic and TV and movie world order, frequently with the play itself verbally announcing its metaphorical status.

This works in plays like Rotterdam where the audience doesn't necessarily have to realize there is a metaphor with fully rounded characters and their reactions, even within the play's bizarre world, seem natural to the audience.

Kosar's play introduces, often in clunky metaphors, any number of issues and current social (and playwriting) trends: the new economic and business world order, a lesbian relationship, the change of culture from family viewing to internet voyeurism, the search for new ideas,  the new media employee mentality, environmental crises, a predatory world  - and, oh yes, bereavement. 

However the characters are simply the tools of elements often introduced like a to-do list to be ticked off. Possible legal action? Tick. Driver's or firm's responsibility? Tick. It's as if somebody has told the writer about how large companies employ drivers and she's just popped it on her list.

One online form, we hear, asks about "unexpected death", although the coroner is never mentioned. OK, it's supposed to be a surreal play but in the end "surreal" can become an excuse for self-indulgence and a feeling of cut and paste rather than a rigorous exploration of the surreal to its logical ends.

Charlotte Henery's set evokes a chic functional modern well-to-do home with gray carpet and blinds, with a hint of glittering silver beyond, and a gray bench.  We were also at first intrigued by the preliminary mix of artwork and video designed by Fed.

The hard-working actors do their best with material which starts off with a focussed idea but then loses shape entirely while trying to keep up the illusion of shooting off sharp one-liners.  

Having said all this, this really feels like a possible quirky piece for the screen, especially as director Tommo Fowler does not solve major problems of pace and scene resolution which would be better served by film edits.

Also while it's set in the East End of London, the script, on the basis of what we saw, feels as if its rhythms would flow more happily with American accents.

Mumburger starts off inventively with a good idea - satirist Jonathan Swift had a similar notion back in 1729, so not bad company to keep.

Nevertheless in the end we weren't at all convinced by a play that tries to force feed the audience rather than take it on an organic psychological and culinary journey. It's a red/amber light.

Sunday, 28 May 2017

Review Jam


A troubling school reunion gives reviewer Peter Barker plenty of food for thought on bread-and-butter school issues.  

Jam
by Matt Parvin

Class War
http://www.finboroughtheatre.co.uk

Matt Parvin’s impressive debut full length play Jam is an intense two-hander charting a sometimes funny, sometimes ugly classroom relationship which should have ended a decade before on school leaving day. 

Former pupil Kane McCarthy (Harry Potter's Harry Melling) unexpectedly and uninvited visits his former teacher Bella Soroush (Jasmine Hyde) in an English rural comprehensive.

He's now a bit of a drifter whose words can't be trusted. He turns up with a rucksack filled with schoolday relics, - plus a bottle of vodka and a baseball bat. All of which Bella goes through methodically, as if it's back to the rebellious student and the schoolmarm emptying his bag.

Kane admits he was a bit of a twat, aggressive and abusing Bella over her Iranian heritage. Nevertheless this seems like a diversion from the deeper reason why Bella is just not acceptable to Kane and he is marked by his schooldays. 

For the past is not another country in Parvin's play - they don't do things differently there. The present repeats the past. These two are locked, however unwillingly, in a toxic relationship.
 
And the cryptic title Jam? It's not clarified in the play but Parvin's past work includes an adaptation of Alice In Wonderland during his own student days may give a clue.

Lewis Carroll's  White Queen pronounces, "The rule is, jam to-morrow, jam yesterday - but never jam to-day.", later coopted by economist John Maynard Keynes and various politicians of all hues.
 
Melling is immensely credible as West Country misfit Kane who is just not that clever. His explosions of rage are visceral, if sometimes with a little too much volume for such a small performance space.

The presence of Hyde's Bella pays dividends later on in the play when her frailties and flaws are exposed.

Her self-control and her controlling personality are brought into context as the script and Hyde's performance reveal the rawness of her emotions and her capability for violence.

An ingenious scaffold climbing frame design from Emma Bailey splits the performing space in two cleverly suggesting a room and a playground.  Alexandra Faye Braithwaite's soundscape subtly
mingles the murmurs of an outside world with the obligatory ringing of school bells.

Playwright Parvin and director Tommo Fowler, could afforded to cut at least quarter of an hour from the running time of 95 minutes, tightening the script and ratcheting up the tension.

Even so, the writer proves adept at building and then releasing tension. Yet Jam has a conclusion that is anything but a release of suspense but a surprising and skilful collapse into exhaustion. It's a green light for a thought-provoking classroom drama.