Tag Archives: Anna Reid

The Sweet Science of Bruising – 4 Stars

Bruising

The Sweet Science of Bruising

Southwark Playhouse

Reviewed – 5th October 2018

β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…

“it doesn’t quite land a knockout punch, however, this is important and compulsive viewing”

 

In Joy Wilkinson’s richly entertaining new play, four women, from diverse segments of Victorian society, find solace from the tedium and oppression of their day-to-day lives in the novel world of all-female boxing. Slugging it out in the backrooms of Islington to be crowned β€˜Lady Boxing Champion of the World’, they provoke an aghast (and sometimes violent) response from patriarchal, β€˜polite’ society.

Cannily, Wilkinson allows the status of these spectacles to remain ambiguous. Are they a kind of proto-feminist display of solidarity and valour? An exploitative circus, choreographed, literally, by the Svengali-like Professor Sharp (an excellent Bruce Alexander)? Or, as one of the fighter’s relatives strikingly suggests towards the end, an act of mere egotism on the part of the participants? The strength of the play is in its timely suggestion that, in rigidly oppressive societies, simple solutions are hard to come by and β€˜progress’ can be tricky to measure.

Wilkinson has worked extensively for television which comes across in the play’s engaging, televisual-style sharp, snappy scenes and intertwining storylines. In fact, the evening feels a little akin to a Netflix box-set (one might see certain similarities with the streaming series Glow). A steady directorial hand is provided by Kirsty Patrick Ward who stages the text with the pace and clarity it demands. Anna Reid’s set-design, somewhat resembling a boxing-ring, uses the intimacy of the Southwark’s studio space to its full effect. From a lineup of strong performances, Fiona Skinner’s brittle, defiant Polly Stokes stands out.

At times, the narrative is pursued a little too urgently. The thoughtful questions posed in the first act get somewhat submerged by the haywire over-plotting of the second: promising narrative threads are rushed through or got slightly lost. Further, whereas the play neatly navigates its individual storylines, one was eager to see more of the women together, comparing their experiences. A bit more time with the boxing matches themselves would also have been appreciated (especially if it meant further opportunity to showcase Alison de Burgh’s brilliant fight direction).

It doesn’t quite land a knockout punch, however, this is important and compulsive viewing.

 

Reviewed by Joe Spence

Photography by Mitzide Margary

 


The Sweet Science of Bruising

Southwark Playhouse until 27th October

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:
Bananaman | β˜…β˜…β˜… | January 2018
Pippin | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | February 2018
Old Fools | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | March 2018
The Country Wife | β˜…β˜…β˜… | April 2018
Confidence | β˜…β˜… | May 2018
The Rink | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | May 2018
Why is the Sky Blue? | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | May 2018
Wasted | β˜…β˜…β˜… | September 2018

 

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

 

 

Fabric – 4 Stars

Fabric

Fabric

Soho Theatre

Reviewed – 13th September 2018

β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…

“Nancy Sullivan delivers Leah with warmth and an immediate likeability”

 


β€œI’m revolting,” Leah says, opening the play. Her and her husband, Ben Cavendish, meet when he comes in for a suit and she, in the words of her disapproving mother in law, β€œserves” him. On the third date he calls her β€œpotential wife material” and sure enough, soon Leah is picking out dresses and planning her wedding. But this is not the narrative of a happy marriage. It is a story about sexual assault, within and later, outside of marriage, how rape is justified by its perpetrators, and the failures of an unbelieving judicial system.

Within this, the show also comments on the roles women are expected to play in society, the trajectory women’s lives are supposed to follow and the confusion that disillusionment brings. Clothing, as the title suggests, weaves a strong motif throughout the show, a reflection of the societal and judicial obsession with the clothing worn by someone who has been raped. Class is also underlying in Leah’s depictions of her mother in law and of Ben.

Abi Zakarian is a beautiful writer, leading us from light to dark with ease. The accounts of rape have such an impact that they are difficult to focus beyond – we leave the theatre still reeling – although the foreboding answer machine messages that pepper the play feel a little unnecessary.

Nancy Sullivan delivers Leah with warmth and an immediate likeability, giggling away, genuine and familiar. Her journey across the play, and the horrific and graphic accounts of rape, are incredibly moving and impactful, an unflinching performance from a very impressive performer.

Anna Reid’s set is scattered pieces of furniture, chairs mainly, which connote different spaces across the narrative, a visual map of Leah’s story, though I’m not sure how much they add.

This is a topical, and vital piece of theatre delivered by a clear talent, that discusses rape as well as the society that so often justifies and perpetuates it.

 

Reviewed by Amelia Brown

Photography by The Other Richard

 


Fabric

Soho Theatre until 22nd September

 

 

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