Review: 'Chimerica' by Lucy Kirkwood, at the Harold Pinter Theatre

I can safely say, the 5 star reviews are entirely justified.  Chimerica is an absolute triumph, providing a sensational story with characters, set and lighting design, direction - heck, even front of house staff - that are exceptional.

Everything about this play is gloriously rich, carrying the complexities and depths that usually belong to a novel or a film.  And yet this play couldn't be anything but a play, because the beauty of it is in its simplicity, namely, the dozens of sets that are projected onto little more than a revolving cube.  The credit for this ingenuity goes to Es Devlin, whose vision allows a background of action to momentarily pass us by.  The peripheries of the storyline that are otherwise discarded for their apparent insignificance are afforded their stage time, and the play is all the better for it. 

So, what of that storyline?  First of all, it is a total homage to the brilliant mind of Lucy Kirkwood.  Inspired by the famous image of a man standing in front of the tanks at Tiananmen Square in 1989, the play follows the journey of a photojournalist who took the picture as he tries, with often desperate measures, to discover what happened to the 'Tank Man' after the event.  What he sacrifices, misinterprets and finally discovers brings the audience to a communal dawning realisation, a sharp inhale, and evermore support for the leading man we've followed just as desperately in his endeavour.

Each scene is short, sharp of wit and quick to action.  Indeed, Kirkwood wastes no time in this 2 hour 45 minute play.  She has taken her story by the scruff of its neck and, apart from the interval, I don't think I moved an inch for the entire duration.  Credit for this must also go to the mesmerising performances of the actors, most significantly the photojournalist Joe (Stephen Campbell Moore) and Tess (Claudie Blakley), who provided the requisite 'boy meets girl' storyline that, let's face it, we crave if it is neglected.  The comic slant came most prominently from Frank (Trevor Cooper), the editor of the newspaper, whose cynicism deserves the sort of laughter that provokes a snort, if the woman sat behind me was any sort of gauge.   What's more, it took me a few scenes to realise that the actors were doubling up on characters: a cast of 12 became a cast of 22, which demonstrates just how much this play immerses you into the reality of it.

Upon leaving the auditorium, I soon realised that there are barely substantial words to describe how phenomenal this piece of theatre is.  Although I decided that the only real solution was to see it again, perhaps every day until the end of its run on 19th October, if you see it just once you'll feel as I did: glad of the near miss between a life where you saw it, and the life where you didn't.  Like deciding whether to stand in front of a tank in Tiananmen Square, or not.  Some things make a resounding mark in history, others don't, but I believe this play will be one that does.

Tickets £10 - 49.50

Available at www.chimerica.co.uk

'Chimerica' runs at the Harold Pinter Theatre until 19th October.

Peter Brook's Dream.

While living in London, if ever I had a day purely to myself, I would take a wander to Spitalfields Market.  On one of these days, I happened upon the antiques market, and found a seller who had a stack of old theatre programmes that instantly caught my eye.  A lot of them were from early RSC productions and I delighted in seeing the names of actors who still race across our TV screens and theatre guides today.  I knew going into this stack that I would inevitably buy one of these programmes, and I settled on this, the 1970 production of Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream.

Little did I realise, I was actually picking up the programme to one of the most influential productions of Shakespeare’s comedy, known as ‘Peter Brook’s Dream’, and the face-changer of how the play could be staged.  As John Barber’s review for The Independent described it, “Mr Brook has found a way of making Shakespeare eloquent to this generation”.   Furthermore, perhaps as an apt summation of Brook’s practices, Peter Fiddick wrote for The Guardian, “When Brook attacks in this manner he must have a target, and a totally blank-minded audience would be as a sandbag to a bullet.”

Admittedly, my motivation for picking up this particular programme actually came from the amusement of seeing Patrick Stewart in the early days of his career, those before he stepped onto the set of Star Trek: The Next Generation as the iconic Captain Jean-Luc Picard. 

Likewise, Ben Kingsley, before his stunning portrayal of Mahatma Ghandi in 1982 or as Itzhak Stern in Schindler’s List, Dr. Cawley in Shutter Island or Georges Méliès in Hugo.  30 years previous to these roles, what do we have?  Ron Jenkins in Coronation Street.

As for Peter Brook, given that this production took place at the Aldwych Theatre only two years after The Empty Space had been published, I have no doubt that excitement for any gesture from him was rife.  As the man who wrote, “I can take any empty space and call it a bare stage” I believe it is he who must answer for a lot of the brilliant experimental theatre at large today.  Just as the actors continued to work affluently for the years after this production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, theatre continues to challenge convention, and, thankfully, the traditions of Shakespeare’s plays.  There is nothing I enjoy more than waiting in an auditorium like a sandbag to a bullet, so thankyou, Peter Brook, for all you continue to do.

Not All Women, Just More Women.

Carly Churchill, 'Top Girls'

It’s an old story, one that is never short of articles, campaigns and conversations protesting about it.  I am positive that people are well aware of it, with at the very least, an inkling that things ought to be different, and yet the issue remains.  So, if you don’t mind, I would like to continue the rant. 
 

The under-representation of women in theatre.  Now, we are definitely seeing progress, with Vicky Featherstone at the Royal Court Theatre, Josie Rourke at the Donmar Warehouse and Lucy Prebble, Lucy Kirkwood and Laura Wade on the writing scene.  Also, we hear of productions of Shakespeare's plays with all-female casts, particularly at the Edinburgh Fringe, and the Bush Theatre’s production of ‘Josephine and I’ fills the ‘one-woman-monologue’ spot.  But turn your attention to the majority of the productions in London at the moment and you'll see that they are written by men, directed by men and performed by men.

The argument goes that it is because our love for theatre and its continuation stems from Shakespeare’s time, a time when women were not allowed to grace the stage, let alone write or direct anything for it.  We are simply suffering the (long) hangover of this convention.  Likewise, even when we remember theatre’s roots in Ancient Greece, as far as history can tell us, it was largely performed by men, for men.  It seems to be an entire tradition that we are attempting to overcome which, I understand, is proving a bit of a struggle.  It’s like asking the British to stop drinking tea, to stop queuing, to stop wearing socks with sandals.  The difference is, though, that we are proud of those things, they define who we are and differentiate us from other cultures.  So does that mean that suppressing the female voice in theatre is also something we should be proud of?  

I might be taking that a bit far.  But you can see my point, because when Caryl Churchill stormed through the doors of the Royal Court with her 1982 play, ‘Top Girls’, where was the sudden realisation that women had been truly missing from theatre for all that time?  When we consider that theatre’s function is to discuss, comment and argue with the world, whatever its present state, we can see that there is a massive issue in cutting out a considerable portion of that world’s population and, henceforth, perspective.  With this in mind, I don’t think that we’re asking for much.  We’re not asking for a complete overhaul of the way British Theatre runs, kicking male artistic directors out onto the streets and writing only for female audiences.  The point of feminism, the right sort of feminism, is equality.  Therefore, I’m not suggesting ‘all women’ and nothing else, just more women, can be recognised to share their perspective of the world.

We can only hope that things continue to get better.  There is definitely a whole generation bubbling under the surface who bring more to theatre than just gender equality: we’re also seeing racial equality, embracing sexuality and abolishing boundaries between any kind of class system or upbringing.  On this note, we also need to ask, where are the plays for the older generation?  None of us are getting much younger, and at last count, the oldest person alive is a 115 year old Japanese woman.  Without suggesting that we bring her onto the British stage, I know that the older an actor gets, the less likely they are to have their work noticed.

And yet, to clear all of our differences, to make theatre truly a place of equality and pull Britain along with it, I can’t help but wonder whether theatre would have anything left to discuss.  What would we make theatre about?  What would be our resounding complaint?  Well, knowing us, we’d fill the National Theatre with a box office smash about the weather.  Will it rain or won’t it?  The tension is killing me already.

In the meantime, I recently discovered an online magazine called 'The Quail Pipe' which is just wonderful, especially for the feminist mind.  I recommend taking a look.

Meanwhile, not in Edinburgh...

Not at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival? No, me neither.

It feels almost embarrassing (totally embarrassing) to not be trawling down The Royal Mile, watching street theatre and collecting flyers for this, that and the other comedy, cabaret or re-imagining of a Shakespeare (if you are there, Smooth Faced Gents is doing an all-female production of Shakespeare's Titus Andronicus. WISH I was there to see it). But, for whatever reason, we remain here in the south with the auditoriums still bubbling away in London (and elsewhere) with actually, quite a lot to offer.  Here's a modest selection...

(My recommendations are entirely second-hand.  Sorry.  Graduate life fails to pay for my theatre tickets.)

A Season in the Congo

by Aimé Césaire
From a translation by Ralph Manheim

The Old Vic Theatre

This has been recommended to me by Mariana Taragano, director of TaraganoTheatre.  She absolutely urged all of us involved in her series of physical theatre workshops to go and see this production.  Combining music and dance, she assured me that it is definitely ‘a play’, and the other disciplines are there to enhance the communication of the story.  Plus, anything directed by Joe Wright (Pride and Prejudice, Atonement, Anna Karenina) must be worth seeing.

The Same Deep Water As Me

by Nick Payne

The Donmar Warehouse

Nick Payne

After the success of his 2012 play ‘Constellations’, which made the transfer to Broadway, I am eager to see what other stories Nick Payne can tell.  I met Rafe Spall a couple of times, who has played the role of Roland since the beginning, and he said it is brilliant.  Of course he is biased, but I trust his judgement.  And I trust that Nick Payne is that rare calibre of writer who can produce excellent, exciting plays time and time again.  He has up until now, so why doubt him?  Also, a story set within the world of personal injury compensation is surely ripe for a few laughs.

(The Donmar's Barclays Front Row scheme is probably the way forward if you're looking for a more wallet-friendly ticket.)

Chimerica

by Lucy Kirkwood

Harold Pinter Theatre 

Tiananmen Square

Inspired by the infamous photo of the man stood in front of the tanks in Tiananmen Square in 1989, I have heard and read only good things about this play.  The story of the photojournalist who seeks to discover what happened to the brave man he captured on film, I think this play is set to be one of those important, thoughtful productions that you (and I) would regret not being a part of for one night.

A little bit on the pricey side if you’re looking to book straight away, given that the only seats left are the £49.50 ones (wince), but if you’re free and willing to phone the theatre on the day for possible return tickets, you might be lucky.

A Midsummer Night’s Dream

William Shakespeare

The Globe Theatre

A Midsummer Night's Dream, Current production at The Globe

For the Shakespeare fans, who can resist 'A Midsummer Night’s Dream'?  Even beyond my GCSE study guide, I still find this play magical.

(If you do see it, look out for Luke Thompson in the cast.  I met him when I did a summer school at Guildhall School of Music and Drama, and know him to be a brilliant presence on stage, as well as a lovely person.  He’s definitely one to watch and this is his professional debut.)

The Drowned Man: A Hollywood Fable

Punchdrunk and the National Theatre

Temple Studios, 31 London Street, W2 1DJ

'The Drowned Man', Punchdrunk

I think this one goes without saying, but I'll say it anyway.  The magic is in your own personal experience of this show, apparently, so I haven't even been told much about it.  Only that it is inspired by Georg Büchner's play 'Woyzeck', and to go and see it, which is good enough advice for me.

Enjoy!  And let me know what you think...

 

(P.S: Also worth catching in Edinburgh is Papercut Theatre's XY Event.  It is a series of genderless plays which I think sounds fantastic.  Look out for those directed by Poppy Corbett.)

The Boomerang Effect and Dealing With Rejection.

When I wanted to pursue a career as an actor or a dancer, I came to terms with the fact that I would face a lot of rejection.  I understood that on the day of an audition, there may just be someone who could lift their leg half an inch higher than mine, or someone who could speak four languages, whereas I could only speak one.  Or they could be the casting director’s niece, the casting director’s girlfriend, boyfriend, sister, dog-walker.  Either way, these are the small - but clear - distinctions between myself and the person who got the job that are easy to see and easy to comprehend.

With writing, I’m starting to see that it is not so clear-cut.  I am going to admit that I have sent my work off to a lot of writing competitions, festivals and events since I graduated University and, thankfully, have given my portfolio some weight in the process.  But inevitably, my application has something of a boomerang effect, flying back to hit me in the face with a neatly articulated rejection email.  And you know what, if I had turned my play into an interpretative dance which I performed in front of the judges that went splendidly until I knocked their coffee urn off the table, I would understand the rejection.  Without stepping too close to the “woe is me, the rejected writer” blog post, what that nicely worded email tells me, quite plainly, is that they don’t want to tell my story.

Now, obviously.  Having sought comfort in reading about howJ.K Rowling was rejected from umpteen publishers, as was F. Scott Fitzgerald, J.D Salinger, D.H Lawrence, I know that this is not the time to throw the tea towel on the floor and smash all the dishes.  I have to keep writing, and keep trying.  “Do it for the love”, or something like that.  The stories that me and every other rejected writer want to tell, the issues we want people to discuss, are still important, whether they fit those theatres or publishers we apply to or not.  I think that’s the way I have to understand it, because making theatre is about a relationship between a theatre and a writer.  At the moment, that relationship is going too far in a lot of cases, and as Anthony Nielson said recently on this topic, "I see a lot of plays that get the life rewritten out of them."  Personally, I don’t want my words to be rehashed and redeveloped to fit the model of a theatre, I want to work with a company who want to achieve similar things as me, and for that, I guess I just have to wait.

So if, like me, you haven’t achieved your overnight escalation to stardom and henceforth consider a bottle of gin just to get you through the day, take a minute to properly evaluate the situation.  There is still time, there is always time.  Matt Morrison, my friend and University lecturer, told me to just “keep writing plays.  Even if some of them are shit, keep writing them.”  I love the idea of allowing yourself to be rubbish.  If you take that pressure off, I think the story is better, lighter, less intense.  And you’re probably less likely to weep into your tenth measure of Gordon’s Gin.  Which is a relief.  Because I don’t even like gin that much.