Billed as a “show in development” this 60 minute piece – by definition –  needs more work. But it is already an arresting hour of intimate theatre.

I have known for a very long time about the Jallianwala Bagh massacre in which hundreds (there is no accurate record of exactly how many) of Indian families were shot for “insurrection”  by British Troops in 1919.  But many British people don’t and I certainly wasn’t taught about it at school. They tended not to dwell on British shame when I was growing up.

Samaadhi explores the horror of that event  and reflects on colonial policy from a number of angles. And part of the aim is to make the appalling events of 1919 better known. We meet an old man remembering. We see early silent film actors discovering bullet holes in a wall. We hear the poetic, chilling rhetoric of the officer in charge and we watch a lot of shooting and dying. It’s pretty uncompromising, visceral  theatre for grown ups.

Mohit Mathur and Ivantiy Novak, the two actors who make all this happen, are both highly accomplished performers. The play uses mime, dance and physical theatre as well as speech – and maybe that’s one of the areas which needs refining because the structure feels episodically bitty in places and some of the sequences are arguably too long. The opening scene in which they are silent film actors with ragtime piano background is, for example, entertaining and beautifully done but feels a bit self indulgent given what the piece is actually about.

Novak, who wrote the play, has a quality of eloquent stillness and attentive listening which I found compelling. And he has one of the most attractive speaking voices I’ve heard in a young actor for a very long time – I hope he’s going to record some poetry (Shakespeare sonnets maybe) very soon if he hasn’t already done so.

Mathur is intensely moving as the elderly grandfather telling his grandson what he remembers and  when he depicts a man confronting a wolf, which presumably symbolises the enemy.  Both men are lithe, eloquent dancers and the choreography of the balletic movement sequences is excellent.

All this is accomplished without set and using just pink and blue Indian floral scarves, a walking stick and a single bullet. The scarves mostly show which side the man is on – red for Britain and blue for India and are folded and tied in different, imaginative ways to suggest, for example, a turban or a skirt. Even so the characterisation isn’t yet always clear as we move from one scenario to another. Perhaps as the piece develops the audience could be given slightly more explicit visual clues.

This was the first time I’ve been to the Bridge House Theatre, Penge since it reopened under new management. It now uses an upstairs black box studio space and has a pretty busy and eclectic opening programme. We had to vacate the auditorium quickly after Samaadhi because they needed to set up for a production about internet dating.  Variety and all that!

First published by Sardines: https://www.sardinesmagazine.co.uk/review/samaadhi/

Brian (Simon Lipkin) is a flyboy, very dodgy and the last person you need as a friend, especially when you’re down. Roger (Dan Skinner) is a vulnerable, decent chap but very miserable, prone to making bad decisions and the least perceptive person on the planet who never learns from experience.

The two have met at a meeting for divorced dads. And I laughed a great deal as Brian exploits Roger repeatedly while the latter, ever reasonable, goes along with his schemes which lead the pair of them into situations which get more and more outlandish – and hilarious. If I mention – wire cutters and a surplus toe, trekking mountains in China alone on a donkey, poker games in an abattoir, SM with Ophelia, bestiality and assisting a disappearing clairvoyant you will get the flavour. It’s an escalatingly episodic piece which sustains the craziness for 2 hours including an interval.

I was, moreover, fascinated by the structure which is reminiscent of an 18th Century epistolary novel such as Les Liaisons Dangereuses. But this is the 21st Century so instead of letters the entire piece consists of phone messages which we see the two characters leaving for each other. Only once – in what is probably the funniest, most farce-like scene of all – are Brian and Roger in the same space. And then we can’t see them because there’s a power cut. It’s a clever play in which the audience sees further than Roger, over and over again because it’s so clear what Brian is up to. The joke is that Roger is taken in: a simple but effective form of dramatic irony.

Lipkin excels as Brian – slippery, cajoling, ebullient and manipulative. The scene in which he has a appointment with his SM “therapist” is unforgettable and all set up through a window in the right-angled set – which the audience views from the other two sides of the square.

Dan Skinner brings a sensitivity and humourlessness to Roger which is really convincing. The acting is very naturalistic not least because we start with two men who seem quite grounded back in London where their lives are not going well. The deadpan way they sustain this naturalism into the realms of farce and comic books is part of what makes this show work.

Timothy Bird’s video designs are a big plus too. Projected onto the right-angled back screen are constantly changing images – a London street, a red light district in China, the GPS map of Chinese mountains with moving spot (donkey), an abattoir and so on. Often they flash up to illustrate what’s being said which is, in itself, funny. Many of them are absurdly bright and some have a three dimensional illusion.

Brian and Roger is a spin off. It began life as a series of podcasts by Harry Peacock and Dan Skinner who started improvising sketches as two divorced dads simply to amuse themselves before realising that perhaps they were on to something. That, obviously, is why the stage show is episodic but it doesn’t matter at all. I came to it “cold”, knowing nothing about the podcasts and had a good evening. Anything which makes me laugh as much as that more than earns the fourth star.

First published by Sardines https://www.sardinesmagazine.co.uk/review/brian-roger-a-highly-offensive-play/

The second Seventeenth Century-set show about witch hunts I’ve seen in a fortnight (cf The Witchfinder’s Sister at Queen’s Theatre, Hornchurch), Caryl Churchill’s 1976 piece now creaks a bit. Despite the sterling efforts of director Matthew Parker and his talented cast it’s bitty and it’s no “Rock Musical”. The songs feel as if they’ve been bolted on for a change of mood – somewhere between Kurt Weill and Andrew Lloyd Webber.

That said, there are some terrific performances in this show. Emilia Harrild is superlatively good as Alice, the sassy prostitute whose mother is accused of witchcraft. She is sardonic, angry, undaunted even in distress and Harrild has a truly fabulous singing voice whether the number is lyrical or furiously rhythmic.

Jill Priest is moving as poor, misunderstood Joan and Melissa Shirley Rose finds lots of depth in Alice’s friend, Susan. Emma Thrower’s monologue as Goody, assisting the witch finder (Jon Bonner – strong work) is show-stoppingly chilling as she describes marks and growths on women’s bodies. They were regarded as the marks of the devil but everyone in a twenty first century audience can hear the symptoms of breast cancer, cysts and other medical conditions.

Many of the cast are versatile actor-musos too. Three electric guitars are picked up for songs and several cast members play basic keyboard. It’s odd, though that most of the songs are presented statically almost as if the cast briefly transforms into a choir.

Like all plays and novels about witchcraft the piece explores the nature of mass hysteria and fear which led to the bullying – and ultimately much worse – women on the edges of their community. How are Alice and Joan supposed to live if they’re not married? And this in a society which celebrates the activity of the witch Hunter and pays him for getting women hanged. Marriage, this feminist play, shows clearly is the only viable insurance policy. And of course those issues are still with us in various forms.

I was very sad to see only 28 people present on press night in a theatre (configured in the round with characters waiting in the corners) for over 90. Press nights are usually busy, buzzy occasions but this one was strangely subdued.

First published by Sardines: https://www.sardinesmagazine.co.uk/review/vinegar-tom/

Our House is strange beast. It’s full of good tunes and ska vibrance but, as a jukebox musical the plot is weak – despite the valiant efforts of writer, Tim Firth. And in this production the complicated, rather clumsy double narrative plot is far from clear. It doesn’t help that – obviously in a youth company – there’s no range of ages to distinguish character.  And the setting is odd. It’s meant to be around 1980 and yet characters are using mobiles. I’ve seen other versions of this show with stronger story telling.

There is, however a lot to admire here. Toby Owers shines brightly as Joe Casey, the young man who takes his girlfriend trespassing on a first date and knows that unless he’s to go the same way as his dad (Rodger Lloyd) who went to prison and who haunts his son onstage, he has to make choices. For the rest of the show we see two alternating versions of what  Bad Joe and Good Joe might have gone on to do.

Also outstanding is Alfie Peckham as the enticing Reecey who is definitely bad news for Joe. And there’s lovely work from Daisy Bates as Joe’s girl friend. She has lithe stage presence and she sings with clarity and beauty.

There were occasional problems with the sound mixing in the performance I saw. Sometimes the balance was wrong and the dialogue got lost. I was pleased, though, to see the seven-piece band clearly visible on a narrow upstage additional platform with some of the action taking place on this level too, accessed from the stage by a ladder.

So far this is three-star show. It gets its extra star for two reasons.

First, I know that every single young person in this production was working flat out with the sort of infectious enthusiasm that you rarely see on a professional stage. That’s wonderfully uplifting. They achieve a high standard.

Second, and most important of all, Chris Cuming’s direction and choreography is the real star of this show. He knows exactly how to get the very best possible work out of his big ensemble and the end product – as they twist, lean, jump, point, somersault and much more – in time and at high speed is a masterclass in how it should be done.

First published by Sardines: https://www.sardinesmagazine.co.uk/review/our-house-13/

A man called Donald Pleats is alleged to have stolen some cats and, indeed, has confessed to the crime. The jury’s job is to decide whether or not there is proof that he is guilty. And a great deal of hilariously spurious discussion follows as various jurors try to demonstrate that black is white and that if you’re persuasive enough you can convince anybody of anything. It’s a light hearted satire on group dynamics.

The characterisation is splendid – and very well sustained under Ben Sutherland’s skilled direction.  Justin Atherton, for example, is terrific as a slimy creep with a whining voice who never stops eating chips in a very repugnant way. And there’s a lovely performance from Mark Harrington as an aggressive National Front type who punctuates every conversation with angry, shouted bits of outrageous bigotry. In real life you’d run a mile to avoid this character. On stage we just laugh at him – a lot. He is worried, for example about terrorist organisations such as IRA, Al Queda and the National Trust.

Nick Bartlett is strong as the ever reasonable young foreman trying persistently to get a verdict and keep the peace and I enjoyed Megan O’Callaghan as the slightly more ambiguous character who simply wants to turn opinion for reasons of her own. Actually all twelve of them are very competent and they play off each other well in twos and threes.

Another thing I admired about both the play and the production is that the diversity is built in – a jury is, by definition, a disparate group and this is South London so you can have local actors from different backgrounds using their native accents which adds to the richness.

The play runs almost 90 minutes and is divided (presumably by the original playwright) into three acts which is pretty pointless. There is no point in drawing the curtains – and in this instance it really is curtains – for a few seconds and then returning to exactly the same moment in the drama. I think this play would work even better if done “straight through”.

This was the first St George’s Players production I’ve seen – somehow I missed the company before the pandemic although I’d heard of it and it’s local to me.  Quite a discovery and I’m eagerly looking forward to the next invitation.

First published by Sardines: https://www.sardinesmagazine.co.uk/review/12-incompetent-jurors/

We’ve all been there – or at least we child bearers/rearers have. A new baby brings joy and anxiety in about equal proportions and Morgan Lloyd Malcolm’s new one act play explores that transitional territory with searing truthfulness. And, of course, motherhood is a lifelong status: once a mum, always a mum even if you’re pretty poor at it. That’s why this very gripping play (in which  the 60-minute duration seems like five) crosses the generations too.

It’s a tight three-hander in which the central character is Nina: about to be a mother, coping with it or maybe locked in post-natal depression having nightmares about the complications and implications.  Sophie Melville nails the gritty-eyed, manic exhaustion and terror of new motherhood supremely well. She is totally believable and her acting invisible as she gets more and more disturbed.

Denise Black makes a good fist of her stereotypical, bossy mother-in-law conflated with Nina’s own cantankerous, bitchy, sick mother who died just before her baby’s birth. The third member of the trio is the excellent Cat Simmons as Nina’s very sensible friend, Jackie, who also works for the NHS and is the voice of common sense and authority although, when push comes to shove, Nina knows that Jackie is trained to put the baby’s interests first and is frightened of that.

It’s complicated stuff and deeply moving although the end brings a certain relief.  And if I was expecting another Emilia (which Lloyd Malcolm wrote for Shakespeare’s Globe in 2018) I didn’t get it. Both plays are about the experience of women but completely different in style, concept and scale.

Let it not be forgotten that post natal depression is a form of mental illness. Several A list male critics were present at Mum’s press night, I shall be more interested than usual to see what they thought. I have a feeling they might, as men, struggle to understand the raw truth of this play. After all the very word “hysteria” comes from the Greek word for womb and denotes traditional male inability to understand what goes on in women’s heads. But we’ll see.

PS: I’m amused and annoyed in equal parts that a relatively sophisticated, theatrically educated press night audience should find the need to giggle every time an older women uses a four-letter word. This is 2021, folks. We knew these words before most of you were born.

First published by Sardines: https://www.sardinesmagazine.co.uk/review/mum/