Theatre Review: Late Company at Finborough Theatre

Photo courtesy of Charlie Round-Turner

Tackling the sensitive subject matters of suicide, sexuality and depression, Late Company is subtle in its delivery, but by no means skirts around the issues. It hits with a hard punch right to the gut and puts you through the wringer, leaving you reeling afterwards.

Directed by Michael Yale, who directed This Little Life of Mine at Park Theatre last year (read my review here), and written by Canadian Jordan Tannahill, Late Company is set in Canada. The play casts the audience as the awkward – in this case – sixth wheel to a domestic dispute. When we meet married couple Michael (Todd Boyce) and Debora Shaun-Hastings (Lucy Robinson), they are fussing over placemats and pacing – backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards.

It’s been a year since their 16-year-old, openly gay son, Joel, committed suicide. They have invited one of the boys who bullied Joel at school, Curtis Dermot (David Leopold), and his parents Bill (Alex Lowe) and Tamara (Lisa Stevenson) over for dinner.

When they arrive, Tamara’s a bundle of nerves, wrapped up in a neat package of blood orange colour coordination, while Bill makes strained small talk and Curtis is practically a mute. They’ve gathered so that Debora and Curtis can exchange letters about words unspoken and feelings unshared since the incident. All the while, a chair at the table remains empty for Joel, his absence looming large – the elephant in the room.

Curtis (David Leopold) reads his letter to Debora (Lucy Robinson), photo courtesy of Charlie Round-Turner

Robinson is adept at moving between Debora’s emotions of explosive rage and whimpering remorse. She’s like a simmering pot of suppression – until she boils over. In one scene, she throws and smears guacamole around the room. Debora is a metalwork artist and as she engages in her solo food fight, she’s exploring a whole new type of art – performance.

With the Dermots’ insufferable nattering to eradicate any uncomfortable silences and their self-serving comments – “boys will be boys” and “you’re inviting trouble when you flaunt your sexuality” – we can hardly blame Debora for throwing guacamole, nor would we blame her for throwing punches.

What Late Company gets right is that feeling of something bubbling just underneath the surface. It’s evident in Curtis, who’s seemingly furtive and emotionless, but also acutely attuned to his memory of Joel. The play does not directly address why, but we can come to our own conclusions – and that’s enough.

The timing and the venue could not have been a more perfect fit for the staging of Late Company. It began its run on April 25^th, coinciding with Mental Health Awareness Week from May 8-14^th, and came to a close this weekend.

The Finborough Theatre in Earl’s Court is entered and exited through the pub, which makes for a quaint off-West End theatregoing experience. With its 50-seat capacity, it makes the growing tension in Late Company palpable – and inescapable. This is especially true from my front row seat as an invisible guest, a fly on the wall of a very difficult conversation.

Rihanna’s “Stay”, the original featuring Mikky Ekko, is a chilling backdrop to an already chilling narrative that informs the play’s dialogue. “I want you to stay…” And stay with you, this play will.

Find out more about the Finborough Theatre here.

A Clockwork Orange at Park Theatre is Real Horrorshow

Alex (Jonno Davies) endures an experiment to try and "kill the criminal reflex", photo courtesy of Matt Martin

Anthony Burgess’s 1962 novel A Clockwork Orange has delighted and horrified readers for decades – as has Stanley Kubrick’s film adaptation from 1971. Now, Action To The Word’s theatrical staging of the cult classic has returned to London’s Park Theatre after its debut at Soho Theatre in 2009.

The tale follows Alexander (Alex) DeLarge and his “droogs”, Georgie, Dim and Pete, in their quest for ultraviolence. But have the foursome found their feet on stage? Well, this all-male production is –  as they would say – real horrorshow.

The teenagers use the term to indicate something good in Nadsat, which is English laced with Russian influences. The play honours the original plot and language, so a quick refresher beforehand might be advisable. Otherwise, the storyline is a minefield to navigate, especially when the artistic director, Alexandra Spencer-Jones, has sprinkled it with an additional layer of homoeroticism.

Photo courtesy of Matt Martin

Alex (played by the hunky Jonno Davies) and his droogs casually kiss one another, strip down to just their muscles – no complaints here – and brutally rape other men. In one scene, Pete (Tom Whitelock) finds Alex being called “Little Alex” by his probation officer Mr Deltoid (Damien Hasson) hilarious. The dots are joined pretty closely together with a lascivious lick of Pete’s lips and a well-placed glance down to Alex’s…you know what.

It’s all fun and games until Alex is arrested for murder and rape. In jail, he takes part in an experimental programme that will reduce his sentence and render him averse to all forms of violence.

Each of the eight cast members, besides Davies, performs three roles. They morph seamlessly and manage to excel at each accent, posture or gender change. For the limited female characters, they don a tutu or a pair of killer heels.

Pete (Tom Whitelock) drinks his moloko like a good boy, photo courtesy of Matt Martin

Davies is the cheeky chappie we all expect Alex to be, with his cocksure attitude and cat-that-got-the-cream grin. In this case though, his drink of choice is milk, or moloko, spiked with drugs.

The minutiae of facial expressions are detectable because of the theatre-in-the-round setup. The stage almost spills into the audience on all four sides, making for intimate viewing in a space with a capacity for 200 people.  

When Alex takes a bite of an orange, peel and all, the audience feels the juicy spray. As the droogs run rampant and target their next victims, the fight scenes are literally in-your-face. It’s a wonder no one receives a blow to the head with Dim (Sebastian Charles)'s golf club for looking at him funny. Ultraviolence, not love, is all around.

Photo courtesy of Matt Martin

The droogs occasionally break into graceful dance sequences – choreographed by Spencer-Jones and set to a soundtrack ranging from Gossip to Placebo to Alex’s favourite, Beethoven.

A wooden table and four chairs receive most of the battering in the minimal set. Pops of orange are cleverly interjected throughout – in the form of a camera, underwear, a bottle of Lucozade and even the blaze of an orange spotlight.  

While the play’s conclusion is not as satisfying as the film’s, we must raise a big glass of moloko to this rendition of A Clockwork Orange – it’s real horrorshow.

A Clockwork Orange is showing until 18 March at Park Theatre, N4 3JP. Phone the box office on 020 7870 6876 or book online here. The runtime is 90 minutes with no interval.

Choose Life, Choose a Job, Choose a Family, Choose This Little Life of Mine

Izzy (Kate Batter) and Jonesy (James Robinson) think back to happier times, photo courtesy of Charlie Round-Turner

             Pick two: work, relationships, or self-care. Most of you will have seen variations of this work-life balance triangle graphic online. The career one is split between a job that pays well, is in a good location, or advances your career. The college one confronts you with whether or not you want good grades, enough sleep, or a social life. Again, you can only pick two. They might seem somewhat humorous or like melodramatic ultimatums, but for most of us, they’re decisions we face (and struggle to juggle) on a daily basis.

             That’s why the new musical from Michael Yale, This Little Life of Mine, at Park90 has tapped into something entirely human and relatable. Main characters Izzy (Kate Batter) and Jonesy (James Robinson) want it all – their own flat, their first child, and time not only for each other, but also for their friends.

Photo courtesy of Charlie Round-Turner 

             They settle into a small flat, but that’s London for you. Jonesy comes home from work too tired for sex and lusting for a beer, but Izzy is raunchily positioned on the couch ready to pounce, because she’s “ovulating”. It’s a word I thought I would never hear in a song, but “Tick Tick Tocking” somehow pulls it off. That’s the genius of Charlie Round-Turner’s music. They’re propositioned by a married couple they’re friends with who turn out to be swingers. I am reminded of the “Expectations vs. Reality” scene in the film (500) Days of Summer, where the lyrics of Regina Spektor’s song “Hero” ring out: “No one’s got it all.” Pick two.

             It’s true; the course of true love never did run smooth. Although this quote first appeared in Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream hundreds of years ago, human nature at its heart is, in essence, predictable. There are ups and downs and when the audience laughs or falls silent during This Little Life of Mine, it’s because that theme, moment, or even a look, resonates with this little life of yours and mine.

Bartender and barista Raphael (Greg Barnett) keeps the alcohol flowing when Izzy and Jonesy's relationship is on the rocks, photo courtesy of Charlie Round-Turner

             One such example is the exchange between Raphael (Greg Barnett), a barista, and Tina (Caroline Deverill), Izzy’s friend. It is in fact Barnett and Deverill who steal the whole show and garner the most chuckles. In a singsong Portuguese accent, Raphael chirpily introduces himself and runs through the expected and dreaded spiel that comes with ordering coffee, much to Tina’s impatience. “When you say you want small, do you mean tall?” What follows is the “Song of the Barista”, which Barnett delivers in a mock somber tone that only adds to its hilarity. When he sprays his cleaning product on the counter with utter determination and not even a quiver of a smile, it’s enough to send me into fits of giggles.

             That’s not to say that Batter and Robinson aren’t strong leads, but when pitted against Barnett and Deverill, who revolve five and four roles respectively, it’s difficult to compete. They are the comedic value, because the storyline involving Izzy and Jonesy is emotional. We watch their relationship slowly deteriorate after a traumatic experience only breeds distance and disconnect rather than the child they long for. The theatre accommodates 90 people and I was sitting in the front row, perched practically in their living room. This made me feel all the more invested in their relationship and all the more eager for it to work.

Jonesy seeks comfort in friend Tina (Caroline Deverill), photo courtesy of Charlie Round-Turner 

             However, life is not full of happy endings. Izzy sings, “When I dreamt of happy ever after, I didn’t really picture it with you” to Jonesy in “Hey Prince Charming” at the beginning of the musical. In the finale number, “My Life Story”, she sings, “In the film of my life, everything will be cinematic wonder and happy ever after, but that’s just movie make-believe.” Both songs highlight the pursuit of perfection, but perfection doesn’t exist. The sooner we come to realize that, the happier we will ultimately be. For a generation that expects to have it all, sometimes all we really need to aim to achieve is contentment with what we already have. This Little Life of Mine perfectly reminds us of just that.

             This Little Life of Mine is running at Park90 in Finsbury Park until 29 October. Book tickets here.

Photo courtesy of Charlie Round-Turner

The Battle of Boat Makes for a Smooth Sailing Musical at Kingston's Rose Theatre

Friends Frances (Anastasia Martin, far left), Gladys (Lily Caines), Sybil (Sabella Attenburrow), Florence (Marika Karatepeli), and Jack (Ashley MacLauchlan) receive a letter from William (Jonty Peach, far right), who is serving during World War I, photo courtesy of Matt Hargraves

             The Battle of Boat made its premiere at the Rose Theatre in Kingston last night. This original musical written by composer Ethan Lewis Maltby and lyricist Jenna Donnelly is set in Britain during 1916, in the midst of World War I. Coinciding with the centenary of the Battle of the Somme, it explores the way that a group of children make sense of war and how they contribute to the effort in their own, creative, way. In association with the National Youth Music Theatre, the production sets sail on a heartwarming journey, all told through a cast ranging from ages 11 to 19.

             As an Army brat myself (albeit of the American branch), with a father who has been deployed several times, The Battle of Boat takes on a particular significance for me. It is executed with a lucid truthfulness and earnest delivery, with songs that encapsulate that feeling of being helpless (a name given to one of the songs), confused, and frightened in the event of a deployed parent. Regardless of the war or the time period it takes place in, the emotions remain the same. When I was a teenager in high school, I joined a program called Deployment Buddies, where I would visit the nearby elementary school once a month. As “bigs” we interacted with the “littles,” who had one or both parents deployed, to sing songs, share snacks, and create crafts. It wasn’t too dissimilar to the coping skills of the children in the show.

Beagle (left, Luca Panetta), William, and Jack play in the woods, photo courtesy of Matt Hargraves

             Florence (Marika Karatepeli) draws a picture for her father, who is off fighting at war, and all she wants is to show it to him. Beagle (Luca Panetta) makes a miniature zeppelin in the hopes that the group of friends can fly to reach William (Jonty Peach) in France, but it goes down (quite literally) like a lead balloon. William is the only one accepted by the Army after they swaddle themselves in oversized clothes and lie about their ages at the enlistment office. They take on their biggest project yet when they decide to build a boat, which Beagle brands unambiguously as “Boat.” To me, this perfectly illustrates the sweet simplicity of children and how their minds work. Unlimited by the constraints that adults place on their own imaginations, children truly believe anything is possible, no matter how farfetched or nonsensical an idea might seem. A group of bullies threatens to overturn the group’s secret, but they won’t go down without a fight on the home front while William is fighting abroad. Hence, The Battle of Boat ensues, with a victorious end for our young defenders.

             The fact that their boat voyage is unsuccessful in making it to France doesn’t really matter, because word reaches William and the rest of the soldiers and it boosts their morale considerably. When my father was deployed in Iraq, my mother would send him care packages, often with home comforts wrapped in lush green grass wrapping paper – a type of vegetation he certainly wasn’t getting in his arid landscape. Sometimes, it is the simplest of gestures that can provide hope during the most difficult of times. In one of William’s letters to his friends, he explains that “little annoyances that used to matter don’t anymore.”

Jimmy Biggs (Bill Stanley, center) attempts to fight off Gripper (Haroun Al Jeddal, far right) and his gang, photo courtesy of Matt Hargraves

             Watching Darragh O’Leary’s synchronized choreography is made all the more impressive due to the sizeable cast (almost 30 members), of which there is demonstrable talent. Haroun Al Jeddal as Gripper, the bullies’ gang leader, Bill Stanley as Jimmy Biggs, Anastasia Martin as Frances, William’s sister, and Jacob Edwards as Felix, along with the aforementioned names and the rest of the cast, are clearly all stars in the making. Everyone carries the musical beautifully. The set is scattered with toys, traps, and glowing trees. A billowing blue piece of fabric acts as the ocean’s waves and a metal sheet imitates the sound of thunder. The children’s dynamism and energy is what makes all of these elements come to life.

             The Battle of Boat would be a great introduction to musical theatre for children, while also making war a digestible topic for them. I was worried whether the Grim Reaper, scythe in hand, would rear his ugly head. Luckily, the show manages to skirt around the topic of death, but it is still broached when a furry member of the crew meets an unfortunate end. The song “Funeral For a Friend” could easily be about a person, which makes it all the more heart-rending. However, for each somber moment, there is an equally humorous one (mainly in the form of Beagle’s antics) and it elicits a sigh of relief from the crowd.

The Battle of Boat takes place on the home front, photo courtesy of Matt Hargraves

             Sitting in the theatre, there will have been individuals touched by war, ones who haven’t, and those who have served on the frontline. Regardless of which category you fall into, The Battle of Boat is a musical that the whole family can enjoy and reflect on in different capacities. An elderly gentleman to my left occasionally wiped away tears during the arresting score, while I caught children mimicking moves from the show and singing the catchy and highly inventive lyrics after the show. Surely that’s the highest praise that Maltby and Donnelly, and indeed any writers, could receive. It’s not often that a production can touch an audience cross-generationally, but they’ve pulled it off with smooth sailing.

             The Battle of Boat is showing at the Rose Theatre in Kingston until August 13^th for its three-day run. To make sure you don’t miss out, book your tickets here. Listen to exclusive tracks from the musical here.