Tag Archives: Ali Wright

Who Cares

WHO CARES?

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VAULT Festival 2020

Who Cares

Who Cares

Cage – The Vaults

Reviewed – 21st February 2020

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“The lightness in the whole production betrays the skilful way in which the story is told and the issues explored”

 

Austerity Britain has a lot to answer for with its meaningless and mean-spirited social re-engineering responsible for many devastating things in contemporary society, not least the tearing apart of communities.

Many writers have been inspired by the crisis yet in Conor Hunt’s powerful new play β€œWho Cares” politics take a back seat to the more important reality of friendship winning through against all odds.

Last year Anna Jordan’s β€œWe Anchor in Hope” showed how the closure of local pubs to make way for supermarket express stores, classy restaurants and luxury flats was ripping the heart out of community life.

In β€œWho Cares” the starting point is the same, as friendly Manchester local The Crown faces closure. But the pub is a sanctuary for a young disabled man, the only place he feels safe after being forced to move with his mum from their Camden flat because the council hadn’t the time to fix a broken lift.

Instead of descending into the sort of sentimentality beloved of TV soaps, a play which could so easily have focussed on a person’s disability stands out for concentrating on the value of true friendship, fighting against the odds and breaking away from self-imposed limitations.

The two characters are so well-developed over the course of an hour that this genuinely feels like a promising pilot for a TV sitcom. You can engage and empathise with them from the start and we want to know more about their lives and futures.

Reece Pantry’s Jamie suffers from Charcot-Marie-Tooth disease, a form of the long-term degenerative condition Muscular Dystrophy. Pantry, who has MD himself, quickly avoids any attempt to milk sympathy, believably portraying the sense of isolation and desperate need to save a pub where he feels accepted for who he is. It is no surprise Muscular Dystrophy UK has been so supportive of the production.

Kyle Rowe has the confident air of a young Christopher Eccleston in the role of pub landlord Daniel. Beneath the bluff Northern exterior lies a tender sincerity and the relationship between the two men is beautifully painted, from Dan helping Jamie fill out important forms to the pair singing Sonny and Cher at a karaoke.

There is an hilarious and touching scene in which Dan finds a Snow White outfit and wears it knowing how ridiculous he looks just to help his friend gain confidence in chatting up girls. The sight of Rowe in the costume will be one of the lasting images from this year’s VAULT Festival.

Emma-Louise Howell directs with a touch that is firm enough to move the plot along, yet with a delicacy that allows the two characters to develop naturally. The lightness in the whole production betrays the skilful way in which the story is told and the issues explored.

The set (Justin Williams) is an extraordinary recreation of a pub interior, at the start littered with the debris of a hen party the night before. Later on comedian Bradley Walsh even manages to make a sort of cameo appearance. It is a good example to others of using decent set and props fully rather than leaving absolutely everything to the imagination. Lighting (Joseph Ed Thomas) and sound (Jack Ridley) also do much to evoke the various moods.

It is refreshing to see such mature writing from someone up and coming and Hunt is clearly going to be a name to watch. Despite its warm heart β€œWho Cares” also has the capacity to provoke and dares to ask hard-hitting questions in a battered Britain.

 

Reviewed by David Guest

Photography by Ali Wright

 

VAULT Festival 2020

 

 

Click here to see all our reviews from VAULT Festival 2020

 

Omelette

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VAULT Festival 2020

Omelette

Omelette

Cavern – The Vaults

Reviewed – 18th February 2020

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“not just funny but well-structured with a neat ending”

 

‘I’m vegan!’ blurts out white, wealthy Mai on first meeting black, broke Mo, an instant assertion of her right-headed and socially conscious credentials. To Mai, of course, Mo has no need for such credentials, so the two progress immediately to probing each other’s commitment to saving the planet and changing society. They declare their attendance at climate protests and refusal to take Ubers, except in exceptional circumstances. They abhor any organisations with questions hanging over their right-headedness and social conscience. As their relationship nervously moves through the gears, an arms race of committedness commences. They move into Mai’s inherited home, negotiate the minefield between their respective privilege and realism and wind up living the reductionist result of their posturing, existing indoors, without gas or electricity, eating chickpeas and chanting daily their promise to preserve the earth’s resources. Inevitably, the relationship frays, from about the moment they are forced to eat Mai’s pet goldfish.

The writer of Omelette, Anna Spearpoint, plays Mai with spot-on comic timing, as you might expect, while the promising Kwami Odoom adapts easily to the chippy interplay. The upshot is an unrelenting to and fro in which Mai’s habits, neuroses and ethical blind spots are matched with those of Mo in a stream of sparring, snogging, preaching and pledging.

Long Distance Theatre has its own pledge, to produce works that shake us while raising a smile. Anna Spearpoint’s script certainly does the latter, not just funny but well-structured with a neat ending. However, unclear which case it’s making, it doesn’t quite do the former. Our dietary threat to the planet, the contradictions of activism, the plight of the let-down-badly generation, or the death spiral of relationships all seem like good candidates. The zero-carbon nature of the production supports the idea that the play’s subject is climate anxiety, but as a snapshot of a generation desperately grasping security and meaning, it hints at something darker, helped by Tash Hyman’s direction. Wheeling round each other on a circular stage, the movement and precise lighting (Rajiv Pattani) dramatise the physical and intellectual dances the two characters must perform. Sound design (Alice Boyd) provides angsty links, slipping time forward in skips and leaps, while props appear mysteriously, indeed mystifyingly, via motorcycle-helmeted couriers (production design by Seren Noel). Accompanied by VAULT Festival’s own thundering train rumbles and dripping water, the whole ends up, like Mai and Mo themselves, a bit more apocalyptic than necessary.

 

Reviewed by Dominic Gettins

Photography by Ali Wright

 

VAULT Festival 2020

 

 

Click here to see all our reviews from VAULT Festival 2020