Tag Archives: Addison Waite

My Dad's Gap Year

My Dad’s Gap Year
★★½

Park Theatre

My Dads Gap Year

My Dad’s Gap Year

Park Theatre

Reviewed – 1st February 2019

★★½

 

“Although the dialogue is often a bit wooden, there are flashes of cleverness and adept humour. However, the story is as directionless as its protagonist”

 

Eighteen-year-old, gay, repressed William (Alex Britt) is gearing up for a gap year of work experience at a marketing firm. But his free-spirit, alcoholic, “try-everything-once” father Dave (Adam Lannon) has other plans for him. Dave surprises William with plane tickets to Thailand. Screw work experience; William needs life experience. William is going to take a proper gap year, and Dave is going with him.
My Dad’s Gap Year is a sleek production by design team Sarah Beaton (set and costume), Derek Anderson (lighting), and Benjamin Winter (sound). The stage is a raised, square platform with a pit in the centre. The cold blue and magenta lights reflect on the sterile white stage. It’s a striking, well-executed aesthetic. Whether it serves the story is another question. I’m not fully convinced it does.

The script, by Tom Wright, explores worthy subjects, including the ways alcoholism affects families, and transgender issues. Although the dialogue is often a bit wooden, there are flashes of cleverness and adept humour. However, the story is as directionless as its protagonist. William’s journey to Thailand is something that’s been forced on him. He’s passive. There’s nothing to feel invested in, because there’s nothing he’s trying to do. Dave is equally adrift. They party, they meet people, they try new things – William learns to loosen up, and a twist is revealed about Dave – but it’s a scattering of scenes that don’t feel like they’re adding up to anything. There are big moments of confrontation and melodrama, but because they’re not formed from a building story, we end up watching from a place of detachment.

The problem with audience investment is further exacerbated by the fact that William is unsympathetic. He’s a pious, judgmental, “disrespectful little brat,” as his mother finally calls him. He chastises his mum for not prioritising his needs over her own. He’s abusive and transphobic toward Dave’s Thai girlfriend. Because we aren’t given anything to compensate for William’s unlikability, it’s difficult to care what happens to him.

The two non-English characters rely heavily on cultural tropes: the sexualised, non-monogamous, Spanish Matias (Max Percy), and the Thai “ladyboy” Mae (Victoria Gigante), who speaks in stereotypical broken English. Because Wright doesn’t seem to have any insight into the cultures he’s invoked, his use of them as background for a narrative about a white family feels careless.

At the moment, My Dad’s Gap Year is a pool of characters, backstories, and ideas. If Wright can find the plot, the play will be much stronger.

 

Reviewed by Addison Waite

Photography by Pamela Raith

 


My Dad’s Gap Year

Park Theatre until 23rd February

 

Last ten shows reviewed at this venue:
Distance | ★★★★ | September 2018
The Other Place | ★★★ | September 2018
And Before I Forget I Love You, I Love You | ★★★★ | October 2018
Dangerous Giant Animals | ★★★ | October 2018
Honour | ★★★ | October 2018
A Pupil | ★★★★ | November 2018
Dialektikon | ★★★½ | December 2018
Peter Pan | ★★★★ | December 2018
Rosenbaum’s Rescue | ★★★★★ | January 2019
The Dame | ★★★★ | January 2019

 

Click here to see more of our latest reviews on thespyinthestalls.com

 

Opal Fruits

Opal Fruits
★★★

VAULT Festival

Opal Fruits

Opal Fruits

The Vaults

Reviewed – 27th January 2019

★★★

 

“The rapid-fire spoken word is dense and often too fast to catch everything, which adds to the confusion”

 

Opal Fruits is a young girl living on a South London council estate in the 1990s. Her pseudonym is her favourite candy. Holly Beasley-Garrigan, in her debut solo show, presents snapshots of the lives of four generations of working-class women growing up on the same council estate. She combines poetry, voice-overs, direct address, and internet jokes to tell their stories, while constantly coming back to the question: Is it possible to tell working-class narratives to middle-class audiences without being exploitative? With a recent rise in the ‘trendiness’ of working-class aesthetic – a brand of irony-culture made popular by the sort of people who would never notice if they’d dropped a twenty-pound note – Beasley-Garrigan can’t help feeling her show may be part of the problem.

Beasley-Garrigan begins naked behind a hanging duvet cover, asking an audience member to hand her clothes from the piles around the stage. Once dressed, she comes out saying this isn’t the show she wanted to make, but pitching a ‘working-class story’ was the only way she could get funding. Getting into the performance, she changes outfits to change characters. These women, we learn, are herself, her mother, her grandmother, and her great-grandmother. She rotates outfits at a dizzying pace. We’re barely given time to orient to each character before she switches to something else. The rapid-fire spoken word is dense and often too fast to catch everything, which adds to the confusion. The show is a kaleidoscope of fragments more than anything coherent.

Opal Fruits is a mess, but it’s a fun mess that Beasley-Garrigan seems to embrace. She’s a charismatic performer. We want to watch her. The natural ability to hold an audience allows her to get away with an underdeveloped patchwork piece that in different hands might lose people. It’s rough, but the raw material displays plenty of talent and lots of potential. The hour is as enjoyable and creative as it is eye-opening and challenging.

At the moment, Opal Fruits is mainly hindered by indecisiveness and insecurity. Beasley-Garrigan is deeply conflicted about how (or even whether) to tell her working-class story from the current distance she’s put between herself and her past. Her show will be immensely stronger once she grapples with these conflicts off-stage, removes all of her guilty, defensive apologies, and arrives prepared to stand behind her work. Most artists experience anxiety about representing their subjects the right way. None ever do it perfectly. While it’s tempting to try to excuse yourself from judgment with disclaimers (‘This isn’t the show I wanted to make,’ ‘My friend talked me into it’), they don’t accomplish anything, and only leave the artist sounding somewhat immature.

Beasley-Garrigan has a strong voice, a fresh presence, and a wonderfully imaginative mind. When she decides what she wants to say, and commits to an approach, she’ll be a powerful artist for the modern era.

 

Reviewed by Addison Waite

 

Vault Festival 2019

Opal Fruits

Part of VAULT Festival 2019

 

 

 

Click here to see more of our latest reviews on thespyinthestalls.com