★★★

Miss Magarida’s Way is a text I had not come across before, and I should make a point of thanking 5goTheatreCo for bringing it to my attention. It’s a charged and fundamentally satirical piece by the Brazillian playwright Roberto Athayde, and it suits the small-scale realm of the Canal Café Theatre excellently. Its writing style boasts aspects similar to that of Pinter, Darke and Bond, though it admittedly seems a little overly reliant on sexual gags when there often appears to be room for more creative takes. That said, it is, of course, not Athayde’s writing alone that I’m reviewing, but this particular realisation of it, too.

The play is, in essence, some nightmarish attempt at a secondary school lesson, delivered through a dualized realisation of the ‘teacher’, Miss Margarida, depicted by Hanna Luna and Leena Makoff. Both performers are incredibly commanding, and the disembodiment of the educator’s role is wonderfully played out through their intense dictation. This is a real strength of the piece overall: the allegorical assertion that whatever the teacher says is fact, and nothing else, regardless of any evidence or sense that suggests otherwise. The complex (and often chaotic) speeches are beautifully communicated, and much of the actor’s movements are quite detailed. The minimal design elements work well in this intimate setting, though the over-reliance on red lighting states for moments of distortion seems a bit clichéd. The addition of a (understandably quite scared) student at the side of the stage is a fantastic touch, and stage manager Hugo Linton gives a great muted performance here, with lovely moments of silent comedy in their Gromit-esque expressions. The fact that the play’s structure is so inherently surreal makes this character’s rooted presence even funnier and more relatable – another great dramaturgical move is the suggestion that all of us in the audience are students, too (we’re even provided with worksheets).

‘You must obey. You must be silent’, dictates Margarida, and this seems a good summary of the overarching message of the piece. It is, indeed, a piece of ‘musts’ and not ‘shoulds’; an absolutist manifesto for control and submission. When at its best, it aptly comments on education and human nature with a delightfully dark sense of fun.

There’s some great ideas within the direction, but, at times, whilst layered with promise, they are loose in their execution. A wonderful skit highlighting the dangers of drugs has an incredibly promising start, with the student brandishing a comically huge joint, dancing to a loud musical underscore. This was, in my opinion, one of the funniest images of the whole evening, but then the moment ceased to go anywhere else. The dancing continued for around some twenty seconds more, and that was it; the start to something great faded. This is a running issue with the piece’s realisation.

There are uncomfortable moments. Despite the content warnings in the programme (which I very much appreciated), I struggle to see the need to deliver lines which contain thoroughly outdated and offensive homophobic language, or indeed, perhaps more importantly, their relevance to the here and now (the text is indeed billed as being ‘extremely relevant today’ in the company’s marketing). Sure, it’s clear that these words are being satirised, but their presence creates a certain cold aura that is hard to get on side with. There is a moment of slightly uncomfortable audience interaction, too, that involves physical touching and could go down badly with the ‘wrong’ participant – I somewhat hope that a plant was used for this.

I left The Canal Café quite content, but a bit perplexed. On the one hand, the promise of an interesting realisation of an older playscript had been greatly fulfilled, but I struggle to agree that Athayde’s text is as aligned to the here and now as the company suggests. It’s worth the evening, as a great introduction to this playwright’s work, and, too, that of the brilliant actors and creatives. Otherwise, though, due to the source material itself and, at times, certain creative choices, the experience feels a little misfired. That said, Miss Margarida’s Way still makes for a charming, humorous and thought-provoking evening at the theatre, and I’d thoroughly recommend supporting this company in their future work.

Miss Margarida’s Way ran from 24th-28th May at The Canal Café Theatre. More info on 5GoTheatreCo can be found here.

★★★★

Kill The Cat are not your ordinary theatre company. Their inherently immersive take on the medium is quite separate to all of the previous work I have seen at Theatre Royal Plymouth. So, in many ways, it was no surprise that, upon being invited into the space to experience (and certainly not ‘watch’) Talk, there was no front of house staff member to check seat numbers, wish us an enjoyable show or inform us of running times. Instead, co-artistic director and performer Dylan Frankland burst through the doors in full scientist get-up, frantically asking us to follow him into a small room equipped with cupboards and chairs, where the ‘experiment’ would begin.

Indeed, this is how Talk is framed – ‘theatre’ is amusingly absent from any of the performer’s descriptions of what is happening. We are all here to practice and experience science (for this is what Kill The Cat have apparently re-trained to do, following government guidance). And so, the experiments begin. Firstly, a hard to follow, but very friendly chat with our immediate neighbour, prompted by questions labelled on items within the cupboards in front of us. In an allotted time, we must make each other a hot drink with the provided ingredients, and keep up conversation whilst doing so. This proves to be both a stimulating and amusing experience, if not a tad overwhelming. The only real downside is – such is the time-sensitive nature of the experiments – we can’t actually stick around to drink our mugs of tea/coffee. (This is very much a personal gripe though, and not a genuinely held one. Science must be the focus.)

The entirety of the cast are truly excellent performers and improvisers, and the weaving together of rehearsed material, recorded segments and workshop-based scenarios is masterful. This is an immersive company at the top of their game. The rooms beneath TRP’s main venue have been immaculately re-designed to create a promenade-like experience of different ‘scientific’ spaces; everything from a ‘laser’ zone (beautifully realised with string and balloons), a town planning table (near innumberable lego sets for this) and a battle field (pick your cardboard pieces and construct your partner’s armour, in preparation for a final test of the greatest fighter present).

The spirit of Talk is made clear by the title – every experiment revolves around constant communication and opening up to the people around you. This is, for someone like me, quite overwhelming, and I hesitate to say that people who aren’t used to pushing themselves out of their comfort zone may find it a little difficult to comply with, but the friendly and wryly humorous atmosphere does wonders for lessening the pressure. And even I, a strangely awkward example of someone who works in the creative industries, felt compelled and encouraged to be myself, enjoy the experience, and totally lose track of time.

So, could I recommend this piece to anyone? My initial answer would be ‘not fairly’ – surely, you need to be up for enjoying its liveness, for contributing and talking, and going with the flow. It’s only fair to acknowledge that that might be offputting at first for many. But then I think again – Talk’s ability to articulate something quite profound about the lack of communication so many of us have faced in recent years makes it curiously and encouragingly universal. If one can get past that initial fear, a joyous and empowering experience can be had.

I never open up to others easily. I tend to keep conversation to a minimum in unfamiliar social situations. And yet, by the end of Talk, I had made a new friend I talked so freely with that another audience member thought we must have arrived at the show together. That, for me, proves the worth of this production. Put simply, it works.

TALK was created by Madeleine Allardice and Dylan Frankland, co-artistic directors of Kill The Cat. I watched TALK at Theatre Royal Plymouth. The show has now finished its current run, but further info about the piece and the company can be found on KTC’s website.

From the hilarious to the harrowing, twenty-eighteen brought some incredible performances to the UK theatre scene, both on a fringe and mainstream level.

I always find it hard to summarise my opinions on all the shows I see in one year, and it seems that each calendar-recycling day I end up feeling more and more daunted by such a task. In twenty-eighteen I watched thirty-seven shows, and so, unsurprisingly, narrowing this list down to what I believe to be the three best was no easy task, though as always, possibly more-so with theatre than any other art form, subjectivity plays a terrifically important role in ranking such artistic experiences; indeed, there is no arbitrary way to grade or organise art in terms of competence, relevancy or quality – the beauty is totally in the eye of the beholder. These are just my personal favourites – but my god did I like them.

3. The Body – Cider With Rosie

★★★★

8/10

By Nick Darke. Performed at The Cider Works, Crediton 10-12^th July 2018. Directed by Racheal Vowles.

I am truly ashamed to say that, before stumbling upon this wonderfully bizarre text and production by the Cornish play-write, politician, beachcomber and all round general fucking legend Nick Darke, I was completely unaware of him or his wonderful texts. I understand he has a tendency to divide opinion – and certainly, I will acknowledge that the brutally surreal and relentlessly unpredictable nature of this farcical play isn’t for everyone, but I for one loved it. Not only did this unlikely rural production uncover a true partly forgotten gem of British play-writing, its energised, committed and frankly hilarious cast bought to it a very distinct charm, competency, silliness and subtle darkness that created the perfect dichotomy in which to present the text and its backwards narrative. Not forgetting of course the wonderful setting – a working Cider mill; airy, cold, and full of dangerous but slightly funny possibilities, much like the story itself, The Body dragged the word ‘theatre’ kicking and screaming into the world of twenty-first century community arts projects, and stuck a conking great red nose on it. This production was a true bit of gold-dust – incredibly hard to fault at all, bar some perhaps slightly drawn out segments more due to the nature of the script and not the performance – I would unreservedly recommend seeing it again if its revived, or indeed anything by Cider With Rosie in the future. Racheal Vowles’ direction has been proved by this show to be truly spellbinding and wickedly hilarious. A triumph of small-scale theatre.

2. Labels – Worklight Theatre

★★★★

9/10

By Joe Sellman-Leava. On tour 15^th – 21^st July 2018.

Labels was paradoxically both technically simple and logistically complicated, whilst retaining a beautifully multi-faceted and real story-line. With Joe Seaman-Leava’s performance leaving a brilliantly frank and assured comment upon race politics in our current social climate, it’s no wonder that Worklight have received widely positive responses to the production. A poignant way to conclude the running of Exeter’s most unusual theatre, The Bike Shed (may its legacy rest in such pieces), the show’s tendency to hope for the better seemed both admirable and indeed minorly depressing – that we haven’t already achieved better, that is. Much of the piece revolves around Joe’s own anecdotes from growing up in rural England as a mixed race man, and at times, despite his jovial style, amazing capability for impressions and effortless stage presence, the piece can be incredibly hard to watch. It paints a sad yet incredibly truthful picture of the racism we can so easily forget about unless we are directly faced with it. A stellar performance only slightly let down by structural aspects and at times perhaps a slight over-reliance on comedy; in reality the issues at hand are so grave, important and genuine, there’s no need for such engagement tactics. People should listen regardless, and indeed it seems that they do, if only because of Joe’s no-nonsense, ego-less attitude to the topic and performance. It feels more like a conversation with a friend than a solo piece, and at that, a very important one.

1. Amadeus – National Theatre

By Peter Shaffer. Performed at The National Theatre, London (Olivier Stage) 22^nd January-24th April.

★★★★★

10/10

The very thought of Amadeus still gives me goosebumps to this day as I write this, even though it’s been a fucking year since I watched it. Lucian Msamati’s depiction of Salieri is masterful, and Adam Gillen’s Mozart, whilst at first potentially hard to get into and perhaps overly clownish at certain moments, proves otherwise pitch perfect and manically gorgeous. The Southbank Sinfonia’s violently precise movements, re-mixing classical tunes into rock-steady beats of strings and serenity add another incredible aspect to this wonderful realisation of Peter Shaffer’s text. It goes without saying that any future performances crafted by seemingly much-under-watched award-winning director Micheal Longhurst are absolutely worth trying to experience, as this incredible monster of storytelling proves undoubtedly his incredible capabilities in forming theatre that can be as architecturally complex as it is relatable. With an effortless passage through time and tale there is, in my opinion, only one word that summarises the production and indeed the man himself who it is so covertly named after: Magnificent.

-Toby Moran Mylett