★★★★

“Charlotte McCurry’s Faye, and Thomas Finnegan’s Naoise perform a believably close pair of siblings, bound together by childhood games that seem innocent, until they’re not”

Ciara Elizabeth Smyth’s Lie Low arrives at the Royal Court’s Theatre Upstairs with plenty of trigger warnings. The company has also included a helpful guide on how to tackle a play that deals with trauma arising from sexual assault, should you need it. It’s true that Lie Low ventures into territory that might awaken all our darkest fears. But there’s also a lot of charm, humour and playful energy in Smyth’s script, and performers Charlotte McCurry and Thomas Finnegan make the most of their opportunities.

In Lie Low we are introduced to Faye, who has been unable to sleep since a terrifying home invasion. She invites her brother Naoise home to help her. Naoise, for some reason, has been reluctant to visit, and almost a year has passed before he finally arrives on her doorstep. In the meantime, Faye has been visiting doctors. Her life has become confined—and a discordant jumble of episodes of manic dancing with an enigmatic figure with a duck’s head that emerges sporadically from her mother’s wardrobe. Faye appears outwardly sane and in control to the current doctor she’s seeing, but it’s clear that, psychologically, she’s falling apart. She thinks her brother can help because he’s the only man she can trust. Using something called exposure therapy that Faye has found on the web, she invites Naoise to become the man who assaulted her so that she can confront him, and fight back. Understandably, Naoise is very reluctant to take on this role. We find that he has compelling reasons unrelated to Faye’s trauma, to resist her request.

Smyth has given us a great set up. As the play proceeds, and Faye and Naoise’s close sibling relationship unravels dance step by dance step, we respond with an uneasy mix of amusement and horror. And it’s not just the subject matter that brings such complicated reactions to the fore. There is something inherently untrustworthy about our protagonist. Faye’s troubled recollections of what actually happened on the night she was assaulted are echoed in Naoise’s recollections of their childhood. Who assaults, and who is assaulted? In Lie Low, the answer to this question is shrouded in ambiguity. Hazy recollections of childhood games, and later, drunken parties and their aftermath, take us further into the territory of unwanted questions and their messy answers.

Oisín Kearney’s direction and Ciaran Bagnall’s set and lighting heighten the feeling of ambiguity. There is irony in Bagnall’s strongly defined set—a carpet marking the playing space, and the brooding wardrobe at the back of the set. There’s also a standing lamp, but it’s small, and doesn’t illuminate much. Any light from the lamp is further obscured by a pair of Faye’s panties that are draped over the shade for much of the play. Sharp angles and light concealed—perfect metaphors for the drama that is unfolding before our eyes. Similarly, Charlotte McCurry’s Faye, and Thomas Finnegan’s Naoise perform a believably close pair of siblings, bound together by childhood games that seem innocent, until they’re not. McCurry’s Faye is in control—and it’s fascinating to watch how, in contrast, Finnegan’s Naoise comes undone. And that raises further unsettling questions about Faye’s trip into madness and insomnia, and the success of her return to sanity, and sleep.

At seventy minutes, Lie Low feels quite short. But there’s also a sense that there’s just enough material in this play to show the wisdom in calling it quits when it does. The energy of the performers keep it on track. They keep us focused from moment to moment. But there is something unrealized about Smyth’s script and the questions it raises. When the energy is gone, and the lights are out, what demons are still hiding in that wardrobe, waiting to emerge

BLUETS at the Royal Court Theatre

★★★

“Undoubtedly audacious and innovative, “Bluets” defies categorisation.”

“Suppose I were to begin by saying that I had fallen in love with a colour”. So begins both Maggie Nelson’s 2009 novel, and Margaret Perry’s stage adaptation of the same title. If you wanted to find Nelson’s original in a bookshop, it would be filed under ‘poetry’. It comprises 240 prose poems that, although disjointed, explores the themes of sadness, grief and heartbreak. The colour blue is the obvious common thread which gets woven into the short essays like a Satin Bowerbird would decorate its nest with blue items.

Being unfamiliar with Nelson’s novella (as I am) is no handicap when approaching Perry’s interpretation. Every spoken word is lifted from Nelson’s text and moulded into an hour-long monologue, narrated by three actors all playing the same character. They each express the author’s innermost thoughts in an understated fashion that sometimes borders on whispering. The most striking feature is the staging. One cannot fail to notice the bank of cameras occupying the space, and the large video screen across the back wall. The impulse is to groan inwardly. There’s so much of it about at the moment; with Jamie Lloyd repeating the technique for his latest two productions, and even Ivo van Hove jumping on the bandwagon. But you have to remember that director Katie Mitchell pioneered the form, coining it ‘live cinema’ as far back as 2006.

The intention is that the audience are watching a film being made in real time while the finished product is projected onto the screen above the action. In reality, “Bluets” comes across more as a radio play than a film, and the transition from the spoken word to the visual perspective is often a distraction rather than an enhancement. It is ingeniously realised though. With the use of props and a mix of close ups and superimposed backdrops the impression of watching a film is uncannily simulated. We are often in awe at the technical wizardry, not to mention the concentration and prowess of the backstage crew. But the content inevitably suffers, and is overshadowed. So much so that we also forget the starry line up in the cast.

Ben Whishaw, Emma D’Arcy and Kayla Meikle are A, B and C respectively. But it doesn’t matter, as A, B and C are all the same person. The three performers move and speak as one, finishing each other’s sentences and covering up each other’s frequent non-sequiturs. It often resembles the childhood game of ‘Consequences’, but more grown up and sadly duller. Which is a shame. Stripped of the cleverness that surrounds them, the words would resonate much more if allowed to speak for themselves. Nelson’s writing is beautifully rhythmic, reflective and evocative. There are frequent pauses in the pathos and the poetry. The tight choreography of monologue and movement trips every so often as we worry that a prop is delivered correctly and on time, or that the actor is still on the right page.

Amid the clutter of a film set and the chaos of non-chronological shooting, it is only in the editing room that the vision begins to become coherent. In “Bluets” we get the sense that we are watching the raw material, and we are given little time or space to reflect on what the performers are saying. We are left with having to try and decipher it later, but at least are inspired to root out the original book.

Undoubtedly audacious and innovative, “Bluets” defies categorisation. Sometimes dreamlike, it also shows the grinding cogs that conjure the dreams. It verges on being hypnotic while narrowly avoiding soporific. The hour does seem to stretch, but the urge to look at our watches is mercifully suppressed enough as we are occasionally caught off guard by a moving and lyrical turn of phrase. An intriguing piece of theatre and at times a poignant exploration of grief, loneliness, sadness, heartbreak – but also pleasure. Yet the true emotion is hard to locate in this interpretation and only really tracked down in retrospect; like “a pile of thin blue gels scattered on the stage long after the show has come and gone”. It’s a challenge, but one worth taking.

Category Archives: Reviews

LIE LOW

★★★★

Royal Court Theatre

LIE LOW at the Royal Court

★★★★

“Charlotte McCurry’s Faye, and Thomas Finnegan’s Naoise perform a believably close pair of siblings, bound together by childhood games that seem innocent, until they’re not”

LIE LOW at the Royal Court

Reviewed on 28th May 2024

by Dominica Plummer

Photography by Ciaran Bagnall

Previously reviewed at this venue:

BLUETS | ★★★★★ | May 2024

GUNTER | ★★★★ | April 2024

COWBOIS | ★★★★★ | January 2024

MATES IN CHELSEA | ★★★ | November 2023

CUCKOO | ★★½ | July 2023

BLACK SUPERHERO | ★★★★ | March 2023

FOR BLACK BOYS … | ★★★★★ | April 2022

LIE LOW

LIE LOW

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BLUETS

★★★

Royal Court Theatre

BLUETS at the Royal Court Theatre

★★★

“Undoubtedly audacious and innovative, “Bluets” defies categorisation.”