|
|
|
Stars explained: * A production of no real merit
with failings in all areas. ** A production showing evidence of not
enough time or effort, or even talent, and which never breathes any real
life into the piece – or a show lumbered with a terrible script. *** A
good enjoyable show which might have some small flaws but has largely
achieved what it set out to do.**** An excellent show which shows a
great deal of work and stage craft with no noticeable or major
flaws.***** A four star show which has found that extra bit of magic
which lifts theatre to another plane. |
|
Hard trip down a dead end street
Lighting up: Sam Hotchin as Scullery, the guide and derelict who leads us through the maze and alternative society of the suburban jungle Road Stage2 Youth Theatre Crescent Theatre, Birmingham **** PERHAPS amid the interval drinks and
crisps it would be an idea to offer Prozac to the audience – just in
case – with another dose on offer at the end. Road is theatre in the raw; stark,
brutal and, partly because of the young age of the cast, crushingly
depressing. You come out feeling emotionally battered. The second saddest thing about Jim Cartwright
play is that it offers no hope; there is not even a flicker of light at
the end of a very dark tunnel. The future is just more of the present,
stretching on to eternity with its soul-wrenching, relentless
poverty and pointless existence. It was the Labour Party's Aneurin Bevan who is
reputed to have said that the worst form of poverty was poverty of
ambition and that is perhaps what Cartwright's first play is about,
people who can see no future, no point and no escape. Cartwright's road
is a dead end. It was written for the Royal Court in 1986 at the
height of Margaret Thatcher's government and is set in one working class
road in an industrial town in Cartwright's Lancashire, an area which was
badly hit by unemployment. The play utilises a very clever stark set
designed by Chris Cuthbert, constructed from scaffolding to give us
eight rooms in the mythical street, eight rooms with eight stories as
well as a skinhead in a balcony and a nutter wandering around with a
box. Leading us through the chaotic lives and constant noise of the road is Scullery, played with a genial air, hiding a touch of menace, by Sam Hotchin who carries the play along well. It is a role remembered from the Royal Court when
the late Ian Drury took over.
With him is his faithful hoppo, Blowpipe,
who says little in what is a fine performance by Alexander Earl The characters start off reasonably normal – at least for the bottom end of society. We start with the mum, Sophie Bowser, who has a
life of drinking and casual relationships, trying to tap up her daughter
Carol, played, yer know, by Rosie Nisbet for money so she can go for a
drink. Carol is off to the pub with her friend Louise,
played by Sarah Quinn, and both would make tarts look almost
respectable. They end up, at the end, with Eddie, the snappy dresser who
wears a suit, played with a slightly psychotic air by Jonni Dowsett and
his sidekick Brink, played by Khalid Daley. But normality is a bit of a moveable feast on the
road and George Hannigan is outstanding as Joey who has gone on hunger
strike to . . . protest . . . or . . . whatever. He is looking for
a reason and is awaiting a sign, some sort of message.. A sign of what
or for what he does not know. He is joined by his girlfriend Clare, a
lovesick teenager played by Anna Gilmore, who finds some sort of noble
romantic ideal in starving to death with her man. They have no reason to
starve themselves into oblivion but, even more tragic, they can see no
reason not to. There is another stand-out performance from
Siobhan Twissell as Helen, a blousey slapper, who is desperate for love
and who tries to seduce a comatose soldier whose only contribution to
the act of sex is to remain unconscious with an added bonus of throwing
up. It is funny and sad all at the same time. We meet a skinhead, played by Neil Gardner, who
manages to mix a life of violence with a belief in Buddhism and the
Professor, played by Connor Fox, who is a self taught anthropologist and
is documenting life in the street, keeping notes in a box he drags
around him as part of his job as the local eccentric. We see a despairing wife in Valerie, Aisha
Taylor, talking about her boorish, unemployed husband and waiting up for
him to come home drunk or to save time there is the already drunk Curt,
Gabriel Hudson, who tells us that the road has always been different
than the rest of the world. “It's where things slide to but don't drop
off.” There is casual sex, or at least casual hoped for
sex, between Brian and Marion, Ethan Tarr and Helen Carter, with Marion
demanding something to eat first and Brian finding his style a little
cramped when his young daughter Linda, Emily Cremins appears. There is Jerry, played by Mark James, an
old man who cannot let go of the past and who cannot cope with the
emptiness of his life. And finally we return to Eddie and Brink who
bring Carol and Louise back to ply them with wine with the promise of
what men have always plied women with wine for in what is the longest
scene of the play with a search for some sort of meaning found in Otis
Redding's soul cover of Try a Little Tenderness.
But ultimately we are told there is no solution and it all ends with the desperate chant from all the cast of Somehow I might escape – but even though it is deafening with more than 60 voices shouting in unison you know it is an empty plea, a futile gesture and no matter what they say or do, they never will escape. In the professional theatre Road gets by with a cast of half a dozen or so, rather like Cartwright's Two, with actors in multiple roles – but this is Stage2, and the indomitable Liz Light can happily work a couple of dozen people into a one man show, so the cast is up in the 60s and the audience, like the characters in the road, cannot escape from any of them. The cast, dressed superbly like characters from a
bad night on nearby Broad Street are raucous, arguing and running
around in the bar and foyer at the start and in the interval. They
provide a play within a play and, to their credit, managed more than
passable Lancashire accents, all as if the paying customers didn't
exist. You are immersed in the road, part of their lives, with the play
all around you - except at the end when the audience are left with an
empty darkened stage which produced a standing ovation to . . .
emptiness . . . paying homage to nothing. And perhaps that was the
point. Forget this is youth theatre, forget it is an amateur production – this is first class theatre full of fine performances with not a single weak link. It could perhaps be shortened a tad, particularly
at the end, while children running about in Scullery's opening speech
are a little noisy and distracting but these are minor quibbles which I
am sure were noticed on opening night. I mentioned that the second saddest thing about
the play was it offered no hope, so what was the saddest thing? Twenty six years on, a full generation, the play
is still relevant, still strikes a chord, and the gap between
haves and have nots, rich and poor, is wider than ever. That is perhaps
the real tragedy of Jim Cartwright's play – that his Road, and thousands
like it, still exist. Directed by Liz Light it runs to 21-04-12. Roger Clarke |
|
|