★★★★★

“inclusive theatre at its finest, it is warm and funny as well as being shocking and moving”

Jenny Sealey bursts onto stage with frankness and with warmth in this one-woman autobiographical show.

Sealey is deaf, and much of the show explores her experiences growing up in a hearing world. Certainly, the crafting of the show, which uses on screen sur titles and weaves in Jeni Draper, Sealey’s ‘terp’ (on stage interpreter) is consciously, and beautifully inclusive. However, to view the play as purely about deafness would be to box it in, and ignore the poignant and gripping family drama which Sealey unfolds.

Sealey, along with co-writer Mike Kenny and director Lee Lyford create an on-stage world which feels comforting, honest and genuine. Some of this comes from Sealey herself, who is charismatic and witty. Everyone in the audience wants to be her friend. But there are also more technical elements. It is nothing new to see an on-stage interpreter, but the way she is used in this production feels fresh and unusual. She is introduced and included in the show, her role falling somewhere between interpreter and performer. This gives Sealey a support on stage which makes her not seem so alone. This adds to the kind and safe space and allows the audience to enjoy the darker moments of the story, without fearing for the wellbeing of the performer.

Something which also builds up this very special world is that the captioning and video design is by Jonah Sealey Braverman, Jenny Sealey’s son. He is very much a part of the story, and his voice appears in voiceover throughout the play. This laid much of the creative process bare, bringing the audience along the journey with the team, and this transparent nature makes Sealey and her story even more personable and engaging. She lets us behind the curtain, and treats us, too, like family.

The set is simple, three kitchen cupboards which light up, and a projector screen. The designer Anisha Fields and lighting designer Emma Chapman execute a playful vision, with the cupboards lighting up in bold different colours.

This is inclusive theatre at its finest, it is warm and funny as well as being shocking and moving. It never feels preachy or worthy and the audience is welcomed into Sealey’s tangled web of a family drama.

THE WALWORTH FARCE at Southwark Playhouse Elephant

★★★

“The play has many levels but is predominantly delivered on one strata of sensationalism.”

The opening moments of “The Walworth Farce” are silent and surreal. But our minds are clamouring with questions. Why, for instance, is the guy stage left dressed in just his Y-fronts and ironing a dress on a makeshift cardboard coffin? Why is the man, centre stage, polishing a silver cup, making guttural sounds, and flexing his muscles? Enter a third character, a shaved pathway running through the top of his head, unpacking a giant salami from a shopping bag. They all convene centre stage – the first man now in full drag – and appear to be enacting a funeral. They wander in and out of wardrobes. There is talk of a dead stallion landing on ‘Mammy’, killing her outright. One claims to be a brain surgeon. There is fury over the erroneous shopping bag (more, of which, later – it becomes pivotal to the action).

The pieces gradually come together to form some sort of blurred picture. But questions remain and the accessibility still lies beyond our grasp. Enda Walsh’s 2006 black comedy is an odd, although brave, choice to open the new branch of Southwark Playhouse. There is no doubt that the setting of Walsh’s grim farce was an underlying factor. The high rise flat in which the play’s characters are holed up towers above the chaos of the Elephant and Castle roundabout. But, like the apartment which can only be reached by the fifteen flights of stairs, this revival has the same level of inaccessibility.

The bizarre scenario is routine for Dinny (Dan Skinner), Sean (Emmet Byrne) and Blake (Killian Coyle). They have been re-enacting, every day for ten years now, the events that forced them to leave their family home in Cork for London. Dinny’s repressive, bullying father figure forces his two sons to re-imagine the events by forcing on them his own warped version of the facts. Sean vaguely remembers the reality, but Blake has no choice but to take his father’s word for it. Sean is allowed out of the flat once a day to go to Tesco, otherwise the boys are imprisoned, literally and emotionally. The multiple locks on the door of Anisha Fields’ impressively grimy set are one of many metaphors that smatter the action and the language. The play has many levels but is predominantly delivered on one strata of sensationalism.

The performances are undeniably impressive, whether grappling with the heightened dynamics of the family or with the technical intricacies of Nicky Allpress’ stylishly choreographed pacing of the narrative. Skinner, as Dinny, avoids the ridiculous by instilling fear, dressing his tyranny in the spurious claim to be protecting his sons. Killian Doyle, as well as portraying the susceptible younger brother Blake, dons various wigs to represent all the female characters from the childhood memories. Emmet Byrne plays the men in the play within the play, but comes into his own as Sean – afraid to challenge but eventually forced to do so with a horrific and tragic outcome.

The relentless replaying of scenes suffers from a lack of regard for audience appeal. Until the arrival of Hayley, the checkout girl from Tesco who has turned up with the correct shopping bag that Sean should have brought home. Rachelle Diedericks brings a crucial breath of fresh air and a much-needed human touch into the surrealism. Although events become even more sinister, it is more believable. Hayley’s initial bubbly attraction to Sean is quickly shattered and, amid the chaotic realisation, Diedericks’ subtle performance is the one to draw the only real concern or empathy we might feel.

“What are we if we are not our stories?” asks Dinny? But, then again, what are we if those stories are fake. Re-invented to suit our needs. To survive even. Beneath the cluttered allegories and ramshackle absurdism that is presented on stage, there is a poignant, desperate, potentially funny, and equally tragic, terrifying and sad tale to be told. The desire to dig deep and find it is a challenge. But one that is worth accepting.

SELF-RAISING at the Soho Theatre

★★★★★

“inclusive theatre at its finest, it is warm and funny as well as being shocking and moving”

SELF-RAISING at the Soho Theatre

Reviewed on 8th February 2024

by Auriol Reddaway

Photography by Tiu Makkonen

Previously reviewed at this venue:

SELF-RAISING

SELF-RAISING

THE WALWORTH FARCE at Southwark Playhouse Elephant

★★★

“The play has many levels but is predominantly delivered on one strata of sensationalism.”

Reviewed on 24th February 2023

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by David Jensen

Previously reviewed at Southwark Playhouse venues: