Mike Bartlett Ups His Game at the Almeida Theatre

Are you game?, photo courtesy of Visit London

            I almost didn’t recognize the Almeida Theatre as I made my way, not to a particular seat, but to a zone for Mike Bartlett’s play, Game. Each audience member was allocated to a different zone with its own unique vantage point. I was handed a set of headphones and entered a confined space decked out in camouflage. A cushioned seat and three television screens greeted me, along with my fellow viewers, who sat a little too close for comfort. I would soon learn that grazing arms with the person next to me would not be the most invasive encounter of the evening.

             The shutters previously obscuring my view opened and introduced a couple in their new home. With my headphones nestled securely to my head, I tuned in to the voices of Carly (Jodie McNee) and Ashley (Mike Noble). Suddenly, I was no longer an avid audience member, but a voyeur in the most Hitchcock way imaginable. The set, or should I say house, was very cleverly devised. It had all of the elements of a “dream house:” a kitchen that spilled into the living room, a spiral staircase, a hot tub, and lots of open space.

             Meanwhile, my headphones were picking up sounds from elsewhere, sounds that synchronized with what the television sets were broadcasting. It became apparent that I was looking at audience members seated in separate zones, while the actors made their rounds to each one. Not only were we watching then, but we were also being watched by unseen strangers, veiled under a cloak of camouflage.

 Carly (Jodie McNee) and Ashley (Mike Noble) move into their "dream house," photo courtesy of Keith Pattison

             Before I viewed Game, there was an air of mystery surrounding it, because I like to approach the theatre by keeping myself in the dark. That’s not to say that I don’t do my research before attending a production, but I tend to restrict my amount of knowledge pertaining to the play. Reading other reviews only clouds my own judgment and I like to enter the theatre with an open mind. I have to say, Game was not what I was expecting at all.

             Encased in their glass “cage,” Carly and Ashley became subhuman, as if I were watching animals in a zoo. As they engaged in mundane tasks like putting away groceries or more intimate exchanges such as arguments, I felt overwhelmingly uncomfortable. Most unnerving of all to witness was perhaps the sex, because I was invading this couple’s privacy, along with all of the other wide-eyed peeping Toms surrounding me. To put it bluntly, we all watched their child’s moment of conception.

             You’re probably wondering what’s the catch. Well, whenever things seem too good to be true, they probably are. Carly and Ashley were afforded their dream house in a housing crisis under one condition: they had to agree to be “game.” Paying customers would take shots at them with tranquilizer darts as they pleased, but the couple would never be forewarned as to when the shots would come. When their son was born, he was placed on the market and he dropped to the floor just like his parents, but with even more ease.

The voyeur's view, photo courtesy of Keith Pattison

             In my zone, a group of girls stumbled in during drunken mid-birthday celebrations. They thought it would be fun to take aim at Carly over and over again. Their complete lack of empathy was jarring, but it made me think of something. When humans hunt animal “game,” this same callousness and complete disregard for life is also present. Only when confronted with the reality of the human equivalent do we see the barbarity of something like trophy hunting.

             When we watch animals having sex, fighting, or with their young, we find it amusing. Yet, people have also become “game,” open to public consumption. Take the example of television series Big Brother, where people tune in to watch the lives of others in an enclosed house. I’ve never been able to grasp why this constitutes entertainment, but then we all have our own ideas of fun.

             I began to feel a bit claustrophobic, a bit panicked, as Game neared its impactful end. That was the point when conscience and ethics tag teamed and made their appearance in the play. Carly and Ashley decided that they needed to leave the “dream” behind, because the risk was becoming greater than the reward. David (Kevin Harvey), the man responsible for manning the station with the tranquilizer gun, entered the house for the first time. Carly and Ashley’s son didn’t want to leave and he was quivering underneath a cardboard box.

Photo courtesy of Keith Pattison

             The little boy had become very fond of a solider game on a handheld electronic device, so David managed to coax him out by giving him instructions and addressing him as "Soldier." Haunting, ghostly images of real military soldiers were suddenly projected onto the walls of the house and the static in my headphones became too much to bear. As a military brat, I felt overcome with emotion. The play’s program featured an article with a newspaper headline reading: “More British soldiers commit suicide than die in battle, figures suggest.” When David was left alone, presumably a former solider himself, he turned the tranquilizer gun on himself as we watched him die. Game over.

             Most of us are familiar with the character Jigsaw from the Saw horror movie franchise. He is often quoted as chillingly asking his victims, “Would you like to play a game?” before they either die or manage to survive one of his sadistic tasks. That’s what life is all about: survival. Bartlett forces the issue out into the open with his thought-provoking play.

             The “game” is really referring to the game of life, which is also the name of a board game. Again, we can play pretend in a make-believe world for a while, imitating ourselves. The board game mimics real life, with options such as a career, college, marriage, and children. Let’s not forget one of my personal favorites either, The Sims. War-based video game Call of Duty is not in fact the real deal, the real battlefield. We don’t have multiple lives or do-overs in reality. If you can make it through each day, if you can learn how to play the real game of life, you’ll come out on top as a winner.

             Game finishes its run at the Almeida Theatre today, April 4^th. Book your last minute tickets here. 

Photo courtesy of Keith Pattison

Have Yourself a Merry Little Manicure

 Festive nails courtesy of Prettly

             After a grueling week, I finished my final exams at university this past Friday (hoorah!). I dashed out of my last exam to be greeted by my light at the end of the tunnel, which came in the form of Prettly. Prettly is a new beauty technology startup in London where you receive a lot of bang for your buck. They offer services such as manicures, pedicures (both Shellac and classic), hair, and make-up…all delivered straight to your doorstep, your office, or another location of your choice!

             While it can be said that most women love a good pampering session, looking good takes time (take note, boys!) and sometimes that’s time that we simply don’t have. Prettly works under the premise of convenience. Founder and CEO of Prettly.com, Rhea Papanicolaou-Frangista, comments that “anything from ordering groceries to taxis can now be done with a tap of the phone.” Papanicolaou-Frangista and Co-Founder and Head of Marketing, Farrah Hamid, discovered a gap in London for women’s beauty needs, and then they filled it.

My friend receiving her pedicure

             Prettly’s mobile-friendly website couldn’t be more simple to use and it caters to the busy lifestyles and schedules of women on the go. All you need to do is first create an account on Prettly.com, and then through a series of quick steps, you select the treatment(s) of your choice, the date, your beauty professional, and the time. From there, you whip out the plastic and pay for your treatment(s) without having to worry about it on the day.

             I opted for a Shellac manicure and a classic pedicure, while my friend chose a Christmas-themed pedicure. Beauty treatments don’t have to be a solitary activity, but they can be a fun, relaxing hangout for you and a friend. In a typical nail salon setting, however, this usually means you aren’t able to sit together, which means no talking either! What’s the point of a good girly catch up without the gossip?! When my friend arrived at my flat, she came toting wine and sweet treats to celebrate the end of the semester. With winter starting to stretch its frosty wings, Prettly provides the perfect solution for not wanting to brave the cold, or even trade your pajamas for clothes…

My friend's mistle-"toes"

             I was very impressed with Prettly’s efficiency and coordination. Before my appointment, I received a reminder email and text and our lovely beauty professional, Nicoleta Rambu, arrived ten minutes before her scheduled appointment time. Prettly’s beauty professionals are vetted and tested by the team beforehand. They are then rated and reviewed by the customers after each treatment, which maintains the high quality standard.

             Rambu brought a carryall with wheels, which held all of her products and supplies, including a blowup basin in which to soak our feet. All I needed to provide were towels while Rambu provided the rest from her Mary Poppins bag! My friend and I were given the ultimate luxury experience as we simultaneously sipped wine while resting on the comfortable chairs in my flat, our nails primped to perfection, and our final exams far from our minds.

Nicoleta Rambu, our Prettly beauty professional, and my Rudolph red nose nails

             Rambu was amiable from the start and really helpful, giving my friend and me tips throughout. What I liked the most about Rambu was that she took her time and actually ended up staying with us for around four hours!  She showed me multiple shades of red and let me test each one out before making a decision. The type of red, whether cherry or more along the orange spectrum, is very important you know! Rambu only left when she was (and we were) completely happy with the results. By the end of the appointment, Rambu was laughing and joking along with us in our silly antics and I’m certain it’s not the last I’ll be seeing of her!

             Prettly has very generously offered a 10 percent discount off your first treatment with them if you email bookings@prettly.com with the code PRETTLY-FOR-LDN-DREAM in the subject line. Treat yourselves this Christmas! Get started on Prettly's website here. 

Ho, ho, ho: 'tis the season to be jolly!

Our Town Was Made for You and Me

David Cromer, who has reworked Our Town for the Almeida Theatre, also stars in the production in the role of stage manager, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             The Almeida Theatre has welcomed actor/director David Cromer to work his magic with Thornton Wilder’s Our Town. The play has been hailed as one of the best-known and most-performed plays in the United States. It was first introduced on Broadway in 1938 and was revolutionary for its time because it disobeyed typical theatre customs. The play is lacking in set and relies on minimal props and natural lighting to tell the story. Wilder broke the fourth wall, which is usually the boundary separating the audience from the action.

Use your imagination! Mrs. Gibbs (Anna Francolini) prepares "food," photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             Indeed, these breaks from normal conventions are evident from the very start of Our Town. The audience is subjected to what can barely be called a stage due to its inclusive nature. Members of the audience are actually situated in the same vicinity as the actors. Two tables with four chairs reside on the space to make up the layout. Cromer acts as the stage manager throughout the play, and as he comments directly to us, this is “scenery for those who think they have to have scenery.”

 Audience members are seated in close proximity to the actors and to the "scenery for those who think they have to have scenery," photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             Our Town is appealing because it takes the humdrum and twists it into a production that is watchable and simultaneously relatable. As the description of the play on the Almeida Theatre’s website states, “We all grow-up, we fall in love, we have families and we all die. That is our story.” That is everyone’s story and it’s a universal one at that. You would think that watching a play about something we enact everyday would be monotonous, but if anything, it makes you even more invested in the storyline.

David Walmsley during rehearsal, who plays Emily Webb's friend and eventual husband, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner 

             As little Emily Webb (Laura Elsworthy) awkwardly flirts with her neighbor, George Gibbs (David Walmsley), I can feel the collective sigh of the audience as they recollect their own personal experiences with adolescence. George attempts a marriage proposal over milkshakes and we watch on throughout the marriage ceremony. Emily and George have a family together, but Emily dies young giving birth to their second child.

Laura Elsworthy (Emily Webb) pictured with Daniel Kendrick (milkman Howie Newsome) during rehearsal, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             Just like the changing of seasons, we lay witness to a speeded-up version of life’s stages. It was life portrayed in two hours and five minutes, including two intervals, to be exact. You need to be cognizant not to take intermissions from life however. Mrs. Webb (Kate Dickie) and Mrs. Gibbs (Anna Francolini) gossip like neighbors do and prepare food for dinner. The cheery milkman Howie Newsome (Daniel Kendrick) does his rounds, pulling along his imaginary (at least to the human eye) cow. Dr. Gibbs scolds his son for focusing more on baseball than helping his mother.

Milkman Howie Newsome delivering milk with his "cow" in tow, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             Professor Willard (Joe Bunker) takes the stage, providing us with a lecture and reciting statistics about the town. Cromer hands members of the audience slips of paper with questions on to ask Willard, which was an inclusion representative of the friendliness and involvement of small towns. In the Almeida Theatre that night, we were all a town in our own right.  

Professor Willard (Joe Bunker) tells the audience all about the history of the town, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             Mrs. Soames (Annette McLaughlin) is the emotional wedding guest as she gushes about Emily and George's beautiful wedding. Members of the community attend choir practice at the local church. Then, of course there is the town drunk and church organist, Simon Stimson (Christopher Staines). Compared to the utter normality of the rest of the town, his unruly behavior lends itself to perpetuating the rumor that he is becoming evermore unhinged.

Simon Stimson (Christopher Staines) drunkenly leads the local church's choir group which leads to an interesting practice session, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             In succinct summary, that is the story of Our Town, but the message is much greater in the grand scheme of things. After Emily dies, she descends to a resting place in the graveyard with others who she once knew in the town. One such resident is Stimson, who took his own life. At first, she is just as full of life as she was when she was alive, but this quickly takes a sharp turn for the worst. Emily is puzzled about the cold detachment of the residents of the surrounding tombstones. She realizes that she is able to revisit a prior time in her life, so she chooses one of her birthdays at home with her parents.

Wally Webb (Arthur Byrne), another resident of the graveyard, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             At this point, the only semblance of a set throughout the entire performance is revealed behind a curtain, fully equipped with things such as: food, a staircase, a kitchen area, a dining room with a table and chairs, and windows. The actors’ British accents have also morphed into American ones, a very subtle change that implies the sameness of all towns. One is like the other is like the other. The people might change, but the stories stay the same.

Emily helps her mother, Mrs. Webb (Kate Dickie), with food preparation, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             With increasing panic, Emily notices that her parents and her younger self hardly look at one another during this otherworldly experience. She exclaims, “That's all human beings are! Just blind people.” Stimson seconds this thought from the grave, claiming that people live in a “cloud of ignorance and blindness.” Perhaps most profound, however, is when Emily poses the question, “Do people realize life as they live it?” Cromer comes in at this point and quips, “Some; saints and poets do.” The answer is most likely a realistic no, especially in London, where everyone seems to be in some sort of a hurry.

Rebecca Gibbs (Jessica Lester) and her brother George enjoy simple pleasures, such as stargazing, in the town, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             I left the theatre concerned for my own mortality, having just viewed the final scene where Emily comes to terms with her death and adopts a stoic stance to the outside world. Even as her widowed husband visits her at her grave, she joins the others in miniscule talk of things such as the weather.

Mrs. Soames (Annette McLaughlin) during rehearsal, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             The nature of life is that of a never-ending vicious cycle, much like the washing cycle of a load of laundry that spins and spins until it eventually must cease out of domestic exhaustion. When referring to Mrs. Webb and Mrs. Gibbs, Cromer says, half in jest and half in truth, "They brought up two children apiece, washed, cleaned the house — and never a nervous breakdown." Unlike human beings, plays and the characters in them are eternal. Well, let’s all hope we keep pleasure in our lives to a maximum while keeping nervous breakdowns to a minimum.

             Catch Our Town at the Almeida Theatre before it ends its run on November 29^th. Purchase tickets (while you still can!) here.   

That's all folks! As the stage manager, Cromer (pictured here during rehearsal) provides a running commentary throughout the play, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner