“Hood writes like the lovechild of Sarah Kane and Irvine Welsh”
There’s a kind of irony in the fact that the first word spoken in “Monster” is ‘Boo!’. The word comes with all the associations of innocence and playfulness. We love the word; to speak it and to hear it. To surprise and scare, and to be scared in return. It is healthy. Part of growing up. It doesn’t make monsters of us.
It doesn’t take long for Abigail Hood’s explosive play to strip away the safety net and plunge us into much darker territory. The razor-sharp dialogue slices through the thickest of skins to expose a very different fear, and all of its synonyms. Monsters are no longer imaginary creatures. They live among us as schoolgirls, mothers, teachers, lovers. Hood has unleashed a frightening yet rather beautiful creature in the guise of a brilliantly crafted and performed play.
We are in a scrap of wasteland in Glasgow, 2006. Kayleigh and Zoe are bunking off school, drinking, smoking, flirting, and dreaming of running away to the Isle of Muck (it sounds metaphorical, but is actually a real island in the Inner Hebrides). In psychobabble terms, Kayleigh has ‘no filter’. Her teacher, Rebecca, tries to understand and tries to help, despite a husband who repeatedly warns her to step back. We soon see why Kayleigh never wants to go home. Home is where the hurt is. A mother who pimps her and punishes her in equal measure. The level of poisonous cruelty is quite shocking. The first of many questions – are people born evil or is it a result of their upbringing? – is raised. Gillian Kirkpatrick, as the Bible-quoting, whisky-toting mother pours incendiary fuel onto the debate with her grippingly caustic portrayal.
Hood writes like the lovechild of Sarah Kane and Irvine Welsh. The shock value is often underpinned by humour. The natural feel is matched by Hood’s own performance as Kayleigh. A brave (and possibly ill-advised decision) Hood pulls it off by probably being halfway under the character’s skin anyway having created her. Equally magnificent are the rest of the ensemble as they stagger along the line between the torturing and the tortured. Caitlin Fielding, as Zoe, encapsulates the dichotomy – we are never completely sure if her love for Kayleigh is real or merely a survival technique. Do you try to placate the monster or run away? Which could prove more dangerous?
Emma Keele is mesmerising as Rebecca, the liberal minded school mistress who reaches out a helping hand. It is no spoiler to reveal that she suffers the harshest bite. There is a heart-rending, graveside scene later in the play where Rebecca meets up with her now estranged husband, Steve (Kevin Wathen). Keele’s subtle facial expressions evoke years of grief and anger that words can only hint at, while Wathen palpably buckles under the weight of the cruelty of lives crushed by cruelty.
Violence crackles under the surface of this piece – with only one way to go. Whether you can see it or not, the horrific climax still comes as a shock. And it’s only the interval. The second act moves forward to 2019 with a dramatic shift in tone; acting as a kind of post-mortem on the past. Reconciliations come without redemption, and new starts never escape the tug of memories and those who cannot let them go. Director Kevin Tomlinson crosses over into the role of John, the new man in Kayleigh’s reconstituted life. His unconditional acceptance of the chaos into which he has unwittingly walked is the only slight dip in the narrative. But perhaps it is because there are no answers. Hood’s play provides plenty of thought, however.
What does it mean to be a ‘monster’? Can it be prevented? Is the worst possible version of a person the only one there is? What part should society play? What are the causes of extreme violence? How does one cope with loss? How does one atone? Indeed, in extreme cases, can one?
“Is this justice?” asks Rebecca towards the end of the piece. To put the question fully in context might reveal too much, though I think I can get away with: “Is it right that a murderer can go on to create another life?”. Guilt, bereavement, abuse, violence, blame, absolution all vie with each other in this remarkable play. Far from comfortable, it is – like the characters portrayed – complex and complicated, provocative, and punchy. It hits below the belt – but it is vital we feel the full force, and the throb as the fist is pulled back. Not to be missed.
“a fantastic introduction to theatre for young audiences, giving a great alternative to Disney shows with talking animals”
Nearly half a century after first appearing in his own movie, ‘Bugsy Malone’ is back. Premiering in the West End in 1983 (starring a certain young Catherine Zeta Jones), the musical about New York gangsters armed with custard pies and paint guns is back on the road in 2022, presented by the Birmingham Repertory Theatre in a co-production with the Theatre Royal Bath.
Known for having child actors playing grown-ups, the musical tells the story of a turf war between Fat Sam and Dandy Dan, the latter of whom keeps going after the former’s henchmen and offing them In delightfully non-violent ways. Caught up in this fight us Bugsy Malone, a local boxing promotor, who meets and falls in love with Blousey Brown as she tries to audition to sing at Fat Sam’s club. The rift between Fat Sam and Dandy Dan grows and Bugsy and Blousey find themselves caught in the middle, while dreaming of escaping the gangster scene and fleeing to Hollywood, if they can just avoid getting a custard pie in the face first.
‘Bugsy Malone’ has always been a show favoured by amateur youth groups for obvious reasons, and as such it can be seen as a little stale or twee. Thankfully this production knocks those concerns out of the park, bringing the show to life in a big, bold way. The show feels fresh while remaining timeless with effortless cool, and it blitzes through its running time with a breathless pace. Alan Parker’s script is funny and loaded with nifty gangster cliches, and Paul Williams’ music and lyrics may be nearly 50 years old but still sound great, with the songs being a mix of blues and piano-led funk/honkytonk (funkytonk?). Toes will be guaranteed to tap during “Fat Sam’s Grand Slam” and “Bad Guys”, and the numbers are further brought to life by a talented ensemble delivering Drew McOnie’s choreography with style and energy. Costumes (Jon Bausor) are well thought-out with sharp suits for the boys and fringed flapper-dresses for the girls, and everything really sells 1920s New York in a great way. The set (also by Bausor) and lighting (Philip Gladwell) combine brilliantly to create a “film noir gangster caper” feel to great effect, along with a terrifically-staged car chase scene, bouts of fisticuffs and enough paintguns and custard pies to keep children entertained for hours. As a cohesive whole, director Sean Holmes has created a sharp, funny and visually-impressive show, and is almost criminally entertaining.
Teams of three child actors share each principal role, and based on the Press Night performance, there are going to be a lot of proud parents over the coming months. Quite frankly, the kids are brilliant. Throwing themselves fully into their roles and really delivering the 1920s New York gangster vibe, each performance is spot-on and hugely enjoyable. Gabriel Payne (Bugsy) leads the show in a way no mortal child should ever be able to do, even doing a flawless American accent. Albie Snelson is also excellent as Fat Sam, his mob boss shtick being a wonderful hybrid of Marlon Brando and Joe Pesci, and bringing a huge amount of comedy and personality to his performance. Mia Lakha also stands out as aspiring singer Blousey Brown, having fun banter with Payne’s Bugsy as well as showing off an enviable voice, particulary during torch song number “Ordinary Fool”. Jasmine Sakyiama does a great job as press night’s Tallulah, both in narrating the story and in selling the eponymous “My Name Is Tallulah” number that opens the second act. Other performers on Press Night were Aidan Oti as Fizzy, Cherry Mitra as Lena & Babyface, and Desmond Cole as Dandy Dan, who all did a really entertaining job.
‘Bugsy Malone’ may be funny and tuneful, but it’s also a fantastic introduction to theatre for young audiences, giving a great alternative to Disney shows with talking animals, and offering them something a little more grown-up with enough allure to hopefully get them hooked on theatre. The show ends on “You Give A little Love”, and by time it comes, it’s not just a song, it’s an instruction. Don’t miss this show. It’s a criminally good time.
Reviewed by Rob Bartley
Photography by Johan Persson
Bugsy Malone
Birmingham Repertory Theatre until 14th August then UK Tour continues
