New Writing Part One: Eigengrau (Bush Theatre 13/3/10) 2 April 2010

This past month has been heavily populated by new things for me. A new play at the Bush Theatre, two evenings of new writing and with the first of the two, the first time I had been to Theatre503. Add to that my finding out that I will be starting a new job in May (Marketing for Arcola Theatre - which now marks a self imposed embargo on Arcola blogs) and it all adds up to a pretty momentous month. My original intention was to discuss each of the three new theatre works individually but in my mind they always seemed to come together as three parts of one conversation so that's how I have decided to approach it this time around.

Back at the end of January, beginning of February I attended Improbable Theatre's Devoted & Disgruntled weekend where, using Open Space Technology, participants set the agenda. If you had a topic you wanted to discuss then you made it, titled it and scheduled it into one of the predetermined time slots. It was your responsibility to act as moderator of your 'session' and take notes as a record of the discussion.

One session I attended has a direct correlation to these new works and the thoughts I've had surrounding them. There was a woman who has been presenting her work at scratch performances for years and felt she was has fallen into a scratch circle. Can you scratch too much? I had never been a part of a scratch evening as a participant or viewer so I thought it would be interesting to hear if it was something I should pursue for my own work and if so maybe I would find out some of the pitfalls to avoid. The one thing that stood out for me was the question - when is your play or work finished and ready for a real production? This one went back and forth quite a few times until one of the participants - an Improbable regular - finally said - when you say it's ready.

That seems an obvious answer but it wasn't something that many had considered - partly because we are all used to having the 'powers that be' tell us when something is finished or possibly we as artists sometimes don't have enough faith in what we produce. Either way it was something to chew on.

Keeping all that in mind, I approached this month of new writing with the thought that all of the artists involved (as well as the powers that be) feel that, unless otherwise noted, the work on show is the finished deal.

Here is Part One.




Production 1: Eigengrau by Penelope Skinner at The Bush Theatre, Directed by Polly Findlay

Following on the heels of the stonking The Whisky Taster , to my tastes, Eigengrau had alot to live up to and on many levels if fell way short. I tend to have a thing about booking the final preview performance before a press night, the reasons being that for larger productions I can take advantage of a preview ticket price and ensure I'm getting the press night quality of performance. Also, I like to see things earlier on so not to be swayed or influenced by word of mouth and reviews. Unfortunately in this day and age, the press performances tend to be a bit fluid so I found myself surrounded by reviewers, the only ones I recognised were Mark Shenton and Lyn Gardner. Oh well.

For those who don't know, Eigengrau tells the story of two men and two women whose lives are intertwined. There's Cassie (Alison O'Donnell) a radical feminist and her flaky flatmate she found through Gumtree, Rose (Sinead Matthews - Our Class and The Women of Troy at the National, The Wild Duck at the Donmar and The Birthday Party in the West End), and on the male side there's Rose's city boy almost one night stand Mark (Geoffrey Streatfeild - Pains of Youth, The History Boys and The Bacchai - all National Theatre, Journey's End in the West End and Henry VI 1, 2, 3, Richard III, Henry IV 1, 2 and Henry V - all RSC) and his slacker flatmate Tim Muffin (John Cummins - A Stab in the Dark at the Kings Head, Edward II at BAC and The Beaver Coat at the Finborough).

Once all the characters and situations have been established, you can see how they will be interacting a mile off. City boy Mark has had a brief fling with Rose and runs into her flatmate Cassie the next morning in the flat. Cassie challenges Mark with her feminist views. Rose who has become obsessed with Mark, goes to his flat and meets Mark's flatmate Tim Muffin who in urn takes a shining to her. Mark starts fancying Cassie and it all gets a bit brit-comesque.

Going one step further each of the characters has a 'thing'. Cassie, as mentioned, is a feminist and is actively involved in the movement. Tim Muffin's grandmother has recently died and he keeps her ashes in a teddy bear shaped urn. Cassie is a flake and early on seems to be the eternal optimist but is revealed to be a bit psychotic in her single visioned pursuit of Mark, against all odds and signs to the contrary. And then there's Mark, the city boy. That's it. He's a city boy with all the trappings that one would expect - a bit laddish, a bit middle class with a dark side of liking to dominate sexually. No surprises there.

There's not much else to say about the actual storyline other than things happen and you can't really figure out why because they're never explored or brought up again. After a night of domination sex Cassie never speaks of feminism again. We learn that Rose has a history of not paying bills but is that a reason for her excessive behaviour? She refuses to see reason in regards to her pursuit of Mark, justifying every action in her favour, she debases herself by giving Mark the longest onstage blowjob ever (complete with the spitting out of sperm) to help secure their relationship, then goes onstage at a karaoke club and sings a complete song off key which concludes with self mutilation, only to bounce back at the end to her almost original self. And there's Tim Muffin, the only character with two names, (most likely for the humour factor) who we find out at the end has been devastated by the death of his grandmother. How that gives reason for his pursuit of Rose and his general slackerishness is beyond me.

Basically nothing seemed to add up. Yes, there were some wonderful comic touches and lines which the audience ate up but when you got to the end you just weren't sure what you just saw and why you saw it. At the end, two things came to mind - either the characters were poorly written or the director (Polly Findlay - Thyestes at Arcola, Romeo and Juliet at BAC) or the actors didn't assist enough in the creation of the characters.

Kind of sidestepping for a moment - I was working at a theatre in Los Angels during their pre Broadway run of August Wilson's Seven Guitars. At that point it was still a work in progress and I was fortunate enough to be able to sit in on a discussion between the actors a group of young people for one of the theatre's outreach programmes. They told the eager listeners about all the cuts that had been made throughout the production.

The actors performed the previous version of the script for quite a while but it became evident that the play was running too long and many of the scenes were dragging down the pace. As a result, there were some major cuts - mostly involving character backstory. Some of the kids wondered if the cuts made the actors work more difficult. The reply was that it made their work easier because although they didn't perform those scenes anymore the information that they imparted became part of their performances, they informed how the characters acted and reacted within the scenes. It was something I hadn't considered before and has since stayed with me. (Unfortunately to the extent that I have issue with seeing replacement casts for long running productions). Having that much information is a luxury and that the majority of actors (and directors) have to get that sort of information on their own. It may be difficult at times to figure out but I think it's a necessity to gaining well fleshed out characters.

With Eigengrau I would say the lack of fully fleshed out characters are a result of the writer, the actors and/or the director not realising that something was missing. The writer introduced many elements that were either dropped without explanation or not explored beyond one or two lines. There is the possibility that the actors had worked on their characters stories but unfortunately this work never appeared in their performances (with the exception of Sinead Matthews who gave a wonderfully heartfelt performance which in fact revealed the flaws of the text). If they had worked on their back stories then I would say it was the director who failed to realise that the physics of cause and effect were not in play here.

Physically, the space itself was just a small traverse with audience on both sides. With the exception of a fast food stand where Tim Muffin briefly works, four chairs were used in various configurations to determine settings with a shelf on one wall for the teddy bear urn to indicate when they were in Mark's flat. The scene changes were a little clumsy and there were times when I had to think a little too much about where the characters were supposed to be. It mostly wasn't as obvious as it should have been.

Afterwards, I thought about Eigengrau, not for the good reasons that stimulating theatre can do but wondering what determines a finished play? Does it read better than it plays? Who could have read it and not seen all the missing pieces? Have I missed something? Am I crazy? I don't know. The audience I saw it with laughed up a storm, I didn't find it funny. A little humorous but too obvious for my tastes. Most of the reviews were glowing but I did read one that had the same questions about not following through with storylines. It is almost a deja vu situation. It reminds me a little about a certain play I blogged twice that was pipped to the post of a major award. It's almost like the title of the play exclaims - eigengrau: the colour seen by the eye in perfect darkness. Like the character of Rose it may seem the world only wants to see the good. I can excuse alot but I love theatre too much to wear rose tinted spectacles.

Stay tuned for the continuation of the new writing discussion with London Playwrights Collective and Box of Tricks' Word:Play 3 at Theatre503.

The Whisky Taster (Bush Theatre 10/2/10) 12 February 2010

We've struck gold!

Let's be honest, there aren't many of us theatregoers who will take many chances on untried, untested theatre i.e. hasn't played regionally or at Edinburgh (translation - doesn't come with reviews). Other than knowing someone involved there has to be something about the play that catches the imagination and usually it's just the marketing description. Never dismiss the power of the description. Here is the one for The Whisky Tasters:

'Barney and Nicola are advertising wonder kids. They win accounts with wit, charm and a secret weapon - Barney's ability to feel, smell and taste colours, and to translate these sensations into words.

Lately Barney had been finding things way too colourful and wished his full throttle London life was more black and white, but Nicola is hell bent on winning accounts at all costs.

When the two hire an old Scottish Whisky Taster to help them with a new campaign, his strange wisdom slows the Londoners to a stop, just as the deadline looms.'

Now, to me that sounded really interesting and pair that with the urge to take a chance I booked. Luckily enough I didn't revisit the description so when I was finally settled in my seat at the Bush I was completely open to what was going to happen on stage, completely unencumbered by preconceived thoughts. This was a good thing because ultimately what happened was allot bigger than any description could ever capture on a leaflet.

What else did I get? Characters that are at once bigger than life and entirely recognisable with uniformly knockout performances, a script that mines the curiosities of personal and work relationships, and direction that understands the writers style and transfers that understanding to all the plays many detailed elements to create what I feel was one of the most wholly enjoyable evenings I've spent in the theatre.

Let's break it down. The performances. Amazing. I was only familiar with two of the actors - Samuel Barnett (Olivier and Tony nominated as Posner in The History Boys - and on film) and Simon Merrells (recently seen as the lead in On the Waterfront at the Theatre Royal Haymarket). Samuel plays Barney, the one with the special talent and Simon is his boss. I saw The History Boys twice at the National and remember Samuel Barnett very well. I thought he was really good but wasn't entirely sure why he was singled out so often as being exceptional. Close up at the Bush it's evident why. His character is not the funniest of the lot and is not supposed to be, but he delivers a finely drawn performance as a young man not willing to let go. We feel every twist and turn his character goes through. Also, he has the ungodly difficult task of letting us, the audience, see and feel what it's like to feel smell and taste colours. You try it.

Simon Merrells delivers an hilarious performance as his overly expressive boss. There are hints of Ricky Gervais in The Office but they are only hints.

There are three other actors - Chris Larkin, John Stahl and Kate O'Flynn. Chris Larkin (The Lady from Debuque,TR Haymarket; His Dark Materials, National Theatre; Midsummer Night's Dream / Much Ado About Nothing, Open Air Regents Park) as Christopher the client, turns in a very subtly funny performance that will seem very familiar to anyone who has had to pitch to a client, John Stahl (Othello, The Globe; The Crucible, RSC; The Weir, Royal Court) is the Whisky Taster and is suitably enthusiastic, obsessed and mysterious and finally, what could be my discovery of the year Kate O'Flynn (A Miracle, Royal Court; House of Special Purpose, Chichester) as Nicola. She turns in a stonkingly amazing performance. From the get go, she inhabits her Croydon native character with such gusto and humour that you immediately warm to her. She allows us to see all sides to her character - gutsy, funny, strong, determined and driven as well as the tender, insecure and vulnerable side. It's true tour de force. In one scene she leaves in a huff then reenters and while standing still, a single real tear falls from her eye, it was magical. She spoke volumes without saying a word or indicating her emotions. It was very powerful.

Of course non of these performances would have been possible without a wonderful script by James Graham (Eden's Empire, Finborough Theatre; Tory Boyz, Soho Theatre; suddenlossofdignity.com, The Bush). He has a very keen ear for dialogue and infuses his characters conversations with current cultural references. I like the way his mind works. Throughout his story we get the pleasure of hearing a debate on what was better to watch as a youth - CBBS or CiTV, finding out how whiskey is made and hearing more about the London tube map than I knew before. It may sound dry but these various elements are intricately sewn into the whole, it really is a tapestry of characters and ideas and it never gets out of control. All the elements have a very specific reason for being there and as a result the characters are as rich as the whisky of the title.

Extra special mention to director James Grieve (Artefact, The Bush, National Tour, Off Broadway; Comfort, Old Vic New Voices 24 Hour Plays; The List, Arcola; and Associate Director of the Bush and recently appointed Artistic Director for Paines Plough).

This is always a difficult one for me. I connected with his style. There are certain directors whose 'style' I immediately connect with and I am not sure if I can get the 'why' across. For me it's about how the actors interact with each other, how they deliver the dialogue and get across the plays ideas and elements. Anything too showy or 'unauthentic' and I tend to shy away. This play has alot of quickfire dialogue, sometimes heavy with ideas and thoughts. Characters cut each other off and often react and comment without saying a word. Of course much of this comes from the actors but it's the director that keeps it all on track and ensures that what happens on stage remains true to the story and style of the playwright. James Grieve does all the above, with panache, and I will be seeing more of his work.

My last mention will be the designer Lucy Osbourne who has actually found a way to immerse the audience in the felling and colours that Barney experiences.

I really can't say enough good things about The Whisky Taster. It was quite full the night I saw it and I couldn't help but think that it should have been packed out. From what I could tell the audience, pretty much loved it and many dashed out during the interval and after the performance to buy a play text. I think that's a great testiment to the writing.

If you are in London or can be here before the the end of February I strongly urge you to get a ticket. You don't want to be that person who will have to regret, out loud, to all those who were fortunate enough to see The Whisky Taster ' I really wish I saw that'. You have until the 27th of February. I took the chance and struck gold.

Big Little Night: Sea Wall with Andrew Scott (Bush Theatre 14/10/09) 14 October 2009

Image: Andrew Scott in Sea Wall
Photographer: Simon Annand

This happened fast. There was no time to consider what I may be seeing, where I would be seeing it and finally would I get there in time. I was offered a ticket in the early afternoon and had 1 hour to get there after work - East London to West London. I made it, with time to spare. So, I was relaxed and able to take everything in. For what could be considered a 'small' evening (running time 30 minutes) it most definitely was full of surprises and revelations, on all counts.

Part of my initial aprehension about seeing Sea Wall was the location. The performaces were taking place in a library around the corner from the actual Bush Theatre and I wondered if we were going to have to stand throughout the performance. All doubts were laid to rest as I easliy found the space, right where they said it would be. There were three or four rows of chairs arranged within the large but initmate open main space - two sections of chairs faced each other and the third connected the other two leaving a small 'playing area'. Above our heads was a large skylight made of glass bricks and corner to corner windows in the two outside walls on either side were completely uncovered to the outside world and the elements.

I sat centre, and watched as the audience members entered and took thier seats while Andrew Scott calmly paced just beyond the chairs, also people watching. Occasionally I would see a Hammersmith and City train go by outside of one window and it made me wonder if the residents of the flats opposite the other windows watched the performance on a nightly basis. Time was ticking by and I got a bit antsy. As the start time approched there seemed to be a steady stream of people going to the toilet seemingly oblivious to the fact that the actor was there waiting to start. Then the strangest thing happened.

A man started to talk to me. He told me some things about a friend of his, older, a military man who had some interesting views on the existence of God. This man who was talking to me was a photographer with a wife and a small child. It was interesting hearing his story but it soon turned a corner and became dark. There was a tragedy in his life that he didn't seem to know how to come to terms with. The man was Andrew Scott and that was his performance. So natural, so intimate one quickly forgot that it was a performance. This is why I love theatre, to get an experience so intimate and personal that it transcends being just entertainment.

I had seen Andrew Scott once before in Christoher Shinn's Dying City at the Royal Court, Honestly, besides the set, Andrew Scott is the only thing I remember. He played twins, and I swear if you weren't aware that the same actor was playing both roles you would think it was actual twins on stage (but you would wonder why they were never on stage at the same time). He gets to the heart of a character, there is no showy 'hey look at me' behaviour, no posturing, no self awareness. He seems to be interested in telling the story, that particular story. Couple that with immense talent and skill and you have a magnificent actor. He makes it look easy but that's talent. It's always great to be in the presence of actors who are more intereted in the work than celebrity. Just take a look at what he's been doing recently - He just finished 2nd May 1997 at the Bush, is now doing this small unshowy monlogue Sea Wall which he also did at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival this year and is also in rehearsal for Mike Bartlett's Cock - Upstairs at the Royal Court. It seems obvious that with his talent he could take his career to 'big things' (he was in the Broadway version of The Vertical Hour) yet he chooses less splashy work. An actor after my own heart.

Sea Wall was written by Simon Stephens who just had a production of his play Punk Rock on at the Lyric Hammersmith. I had heard wonderful things about his writing and this was my first Simon Stephens experience. I enjoyed it, I think it was well written but I can't say more than that. As it's only about 30 minutes long I don't find that to be long enough for me to come to any conclusion about the writing. I have often felt unsatified by short stories and I kind of feel that this was the theatrical equivalent. Having said that, it has since resonated in my head, not on a profound level, but it's there. I guess that says something,

I think I will check out another Simon Stephens play in the future, it would seem wise to do so. In the meantime, there's still more Andrew Scott to come at the Royal Court. I have my ticket, I may need another for an additional visit. He's worth it.