This post originally appeared on the Lane’s List in December 2014.
In keeping with the myriad of ‘reviewers top 10 theatre picks’ from the year, I thought it might be fun (humour me) to try and think about my top 10 theatre picks from 2014 that have been picks simply because I’ve learned something along the way.
That doesn’t mean you should rush out to go and see them (not that you can, such is the ephemeral nature of what we do) but it seemed to be the best way to make a slightly more interesting list than what everybody else might have had on it.
So, in no particular order:
DARK VANILLA JUNGLE by Philip Ridley: I learnt that to watch an actor sweat their way through an ocean of language – and I know the content has divided some people – is in itself a form of drama and theatricality: that an act of endurance in the live experience and the challenge you set a performer alone can be what fuels you through those early musings and scribblings. Actors like to work hard. Give them a language gym.
GREAT BRITAIN by Richard Bean: I learnt that when you dramatise and put in the West End something that the entire audience already thinks (oooh isn’t the media corrupt and probably in the pockets of politicians and policemen), it doesn’t really make for a satisfying evening out. Complicate matters. The audience is not comprised of idiots.
THE DEVIL AND THE SHOPKEEPER by Theatre Orchard Project: I learnt that theatre which speaks to its constituency directly and marries together archetypal storytelling (Faust) with local concerns (death of small businesses) and sympathetic use of space (a disused shop front) can create something that truly brings people in off the streets to witness it. Speak clearly to your audience and they might surprise you with their willingness to come on a journey.
JOHN by DV8: I learnt how verbatim theatre could be embraced by dance. I also learnt that it’s a really bad idea to tell one intense and incredibly story about one man’s life journey for half the play, and then divert into a lingering and dramatically meandering story about gay brothels which –whilst fascinating in isolation, in some ways – ultimately sours the flavour of what the play promised. Keep the promises you make to an audience.
SOLO [SOLO] by Samuel Taylor: I learnt that theatre has learned how to deploy digital technology in production, and storytelling has learned how to look at the human impact of digital technology on social structures: but here, a play seamlessly blends the high-tech world of data harvesting with the simplest of theatrical conceits and a striking human story – with one man on stage, simple props and a tiny space. If you have a strong human story, use the whole world of that story to power it forward.
MUCKY PUP by Theatre Alibi: I learnt that even if you get the story right, if the form doesn’t support the content then you can lose a group of 60 children pretty quickly. A lovely premise about a lonely boy afraid of dirt who cares for a neighbour’s dog and in doing so, overcomes his fears and makes new friends, but for the last three-quarters of the performance basically shouts words at five year-olds. Oh, and all the gritty or salt-of-the-earth characters are from the North. Don’t dumb down.
REVOLT. SHE SAID. REVOLT AGAIN by Alice Birch: I learnt what a feminist play really looked like. A play about the unwitting misogyny of language and what happens to the fabric of the world when the female voice tries to wrench thousands of years of patriarchy away from its owners. Six searing scenes between totally disconnected characters but woven through with a membrane of images, sounds, ideas and counter-cultural foot-stamping that adds up to a howl of indignation. Sometimes the young writers really are the ones who are changing the way we look at theatre and at the world.
JANE EYRE Part 1 by Bristol Old Vic / Sally Cookson: I learnt about total theatre adaptation, ensemble performance and utter economy of storytelling. The motifs and languages employed by the production were woven through every element, with the most crucial choices (Jane’s internal doubt voiced by four separate ‘Janes’ and the force of fate depicted through a soulful female alto) thumping with imagination and integrity. Spoken text is not the only way.
ADVICE FOR THE YOUNG AT HEART by Roy Williams: I learnt that you can get tired of a writer’s voice. A play about the London riots which – for me – over-simplified the impact on contemporary teenagers and tied itself up far too neatly at the end. None of which was surprising, as I’ve never really liked his plays anyway. It’s okay not to like one of the most successful modern playwrights of the 21st century.
WOMAN OF FLOWERS by Kaite O’Reilly: I learnt why theatre is beautiful again. A story about stories, about truth and lies, about dominant narratives and hidden narratives, told through multiple languages textual, visual and in-between, a story that flirts with modern and ancient myths of belonging and ownership, a story of love and longing and lust for life, and beauty and joy and redemption and ambiguity. All in 70 minutes and all impeccably structured. The best theatre is always like the Tardis: deceptively simple at first glance and unfathomably big on the inside.
Have a great 2015 of theatre-going. Learn stuff.