Tag Archives: Amy Jane Cook

Super Happy Story (About Feeling Super Sad)

Super Happy Story (About Feeling Super Sad)
★★★★

VAULT Festival

Super Happy Story (About Feeling Super Sad)

Super Happy Story (About Feeling Super Sad)

The Vaults

Reviewed – 31st January 2019

★★★★

 

“the delivery and the performances of these dynamic character actors certainly make you stand up and listen”

 

“If you were affected by any of the issues raised in this programme…” is such a common tagline on our television screens nowadays, that most people have become inured to it. A quick surf online shows that where there is still a reaction to the announcements, they are usually ones of annoyance at their ‘Nanny-State’ superficiality. Understandable perhaps, but unfair and unreasonable. In reality, these helplines do have a significant impact in encouraging people to seek help for a wide range of problems.

“Silent Uproar” adopt the same sense of responsibility by exit flyering their show “A Super Happy Story (About Feeling Super Sad)” with details of where to get support for those struggling with mental health. The award-winning company makes theatre to “make the world a little less shit”. Maybe not the most highbrow tagline, but it is true to their playfully honest approach. And it also helps sweep away the preconception that a musical about depression is going to make for a pretty cheerless evening. “A Super Happy Story…” is anything but cheerless. Written by Jon Brittain with music by Matthew Floyd Jones, it is an uplifting and insightful cabaret about a young woman’s fight with depression.

Sally (played by Madeleine MacMahon) is “fine”, as she repeatedly tells everybody (Sophie Clay and Ed Yelland – impressively playing a diverse roll call of all the other characters). MacMahon brilliantly encapsulates the manic over insistence on having a good time with which Sally embarks on her journey. It begins with denial, then runs the gauntlet of anger, bargaining and acceptance after which she gets better. We think the show is reaching a natural happy ending. But then we are harshly reminded that every silver lining has its own black cloud.

It’s not a ground-breaking message, but the delivery and the performances of these dynamic character actors certainly make you stand up and listen. Clay and Yelland, as Sally’s best friend, boss, mother, boyfriend and much more, are hilarious. Yet they also manage to convey the minefield one needs to navigate when treading the path towards recovery. They understand completely the notion that if you can amuse an audience, you will find that they are far more receptive to what you have to say. The show packs a powerful punch while making you laugh out loud.

The songs slot into the action like interludes between the chapters of Sally’s life, with tight harmonies accompanied by a lone pianist to the side of the stage (it is unclear, though, whether this is Floyd Jones himself or Tom Penn, the credited touring MD). Again, the juxtaposition of upbeat melodies with weighty words shrouds the educational aspects of the show in entertainment.

Depression often feeds on being ignored, which is part of the crux of Sally’s story. This is a show that cannot, and must not be ignored. It is heartfelt and rings absolutely true. Depression might never really go away but, as Sally ultimately declares; “I’m not bad. And not bad feels pretty damn good.”

Nobody can accuse this show of merely being ‘not bad’. I’d say it’s ‘pretty damn good’.

 

Reviewed by Jonathan Evans

Photography courtesy Silent Uproar

 

Vault Festival 2019

Super Happy Story (About Feeling Super Sad)

Part of VAULT Festival 2019

 

 

 

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The Funeral Director – 5 Stars

The Funeral Director

The Funeral Director

Southwark Playhouse

Reviewed – 2nd November 2018

★★★★★

“The play illustrates the beauty of complexity; of embracing nuance rather than shying away from it”

 

In June 2018, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled in favour of Colorado’s Masterpiece Cakeshop’s decision to refuse service for a same-sex couple, just a month before Iman Quereshi was announced as the winner of Papatango’s 10th Anniversary New Writing Prize with The Funeral Director. Justice Kennedy summarised that ‘Religious and philosophical objections to gay marriage are protected views and in some instances protected forms of expression’, though the court did not provide a lasting precedent for religious exemptions for businesses over clients’ sexual orientations. With The Funeral Director, Quereshi defiantly resists such deferral of responsibility. While courts wrangle and tabloids simplify, art rises. What emerges is a triumphant piece of theatre, which, despite its wonderfully stubborn insistence on complete humanisation, retains a deftness to its powerful LGBTQ storyline.

We begin with Ayesha (Aryana Ramkhalawon) and her husband Zeyd (Maanuv Thiara). Stuck in a relatively unspectacular (but not unloving) marriage, the pair manage Ayesha’s family business: an Islamic funeral home. However, when Tom (Tom Morley) arrives with a seemingly simple request — for them to provide a dignified service for his late boyfriend, their refusal leads to cultural and religious disarray. When Ayesha’s childhood friend-turned-lawyer Janey (Jessica Clark) returns to care for her own mother, the incident’s ramifications expand further. The play becomes an exploration of modern British identity and perception. Clark’s warmly charismatic Janey represents an increasingly secularised London elite: professional, liberal, firm, but fiercely inclusive and just. Her condescension towards the ‘backwards people’ of her hometown crumbles so as not to create an overpowering division of ‘us and them’ — incidentally, the racialised dynamic Zeyd fears from the British media.

This is the play’s most complex and successful negotiation. In creating Zeyd as a genuinely caring and pragmatic character, director Hannah Hauer King avoids a descent into generalisation. His homophobia is condemnable from the outset, but his dilemma embodies the encroachment of community pressure upon personal belief — forces managed with ease by the constantly endearing Thiara. He would love his own child regardless of its sexuality, but he cannot face the wider fallout from the Muslim community. Although this selectivity is hardly a foundation for sincere tolerance, it allows the play to develop the ideas of personal
spirituality and ideological emancipation which we hope eventually touch Zeyd too: a loving Allah would not want Muslims to suffer persecution owing to their sexuality and loves all, Ayesha explains at the close.

Again though, the play is woven with a precision which rightly champions the voices of its queer characters. Morley’s anguish as Tom prompts Ayesha’s transformation, but it is his boyfriend’s faith who provides the reasoning. Even in absence, his power is devastating, embodying the strength of queer Muslims while symbolising trauma’s potential results in the fight for existence. The play illustrates the beauty of complexity; of embracing nuance rather than shying away from it. Queer intersectionality’s very foundations within British society are questioned and embraced under the lights of Southwark Playhouse. The result is mesmerising.

 

Reviewed by Ravi Ghosh

Photography by The Other Richard

 


The Funeral Director

Southwark Playhouse until 24th November

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:
Bananaman | ★★★ | January 2018
Pippin | ★★★★ | February 2018
Old Fools | ★★★★★ | March 2018
The Country Wife | ★★★ | April 2018
Confidence | ★★ | May 2018
The Rink | ★★★★ | May 2018
Why is the Sky Blue? | ★★★★★ | May 2018
Wasted | ★★★ | September 2018
The Sweet Science of Bruising | ★★★★ | October 2018
The Trench | ★★★ | October 2018

 

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