Tag Archives: Asaf Zohar

MY MOTHER’S FUNERAL: THE SHOW

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Edinburgh Festival Fringe

MY MOTHER’S FUNERAL: THE SHOW at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe

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“The prowess of Jones’ writing and Charlotte Bennett’s direction is unique and utterly refreshing”

My Mother’s Funeral: The Show is a crucial and stunning piece on trauma mining in the arts. Based on the experience of losing a loved one and discovering the expense of death unjust, Kelly Jones writes a masterpiece that challenges the notion that dying is the great leveller. A breath-taking meta-theatrical triumph: this performance follows 24-year-old Abigail as she desperately pitches and writes a play about her mother’s (very) recent death. When a stranger turns to you at the end of the show in tears letting you know they intend to immediately ring their mum, you know the performance has done its job.

Playwright Kelly Jones presents a stunningly honest voice on the issues of how the arts industry treats trauma and social commentary. Jones delivers a powerful and poetic script that skips between tearjerkingly direct experiences of navigating the death of a close family member and trying to respect a dead relative’s wishes. The complexity of her writing is brilliantly clever and pulls the audience in from the moment Nicole Sawyerr (playing Abigail) takes to the stage. Sawyerr gives her all to the performance, holding the audience tightly in the palm of her hand.

As a microphone takes centre stage, as does our grief-struck protagonist. Moments where Abigail takes the mic on her feelings work beautifully into the meta-theatrical premise of the show and the sound production flies in support of it. Touching on themes of gentrification, demonisation of the working class, and estranged family relationships, My Mother’s Funeral touches nerves with the utmost composure and tact. The throughline of commentary on the divide between working class communities and the arts industry is sharp and so very needed. As the show holds a mirror to its paying audience, gasps and tears and laughter are elicited from the audience.

The staging (Rhys Jarman) is dynamic and drives the creativity of the show. Similarly, the gorgeous lighting (Joshua Gadsby) and sound design (Asaf Zohar) are as electric as the knife-edged acting. Samuel Armfield (playing Abigail’s brother and a particularly distasteful theatre producer) and Debra Baker (playing Abigail’s mum, healthcare professionals and an ignorant actor) multi-role phenomenally. The two flawlessly switch between different accents and well-crafted physicality. The direction is tasteful, thoughtful and comedic from beginning to end. This show catches you howling with laughter one second and wiping tears away the next in well-earned moments of emotional tension. Armfield and Baker’s supporting roles combine to pressure the devastation and rage of Sawyerr’s acting as her voice echoes both forcefully and delicately into the space. In particular, the climax of the show is directed with terrific effect, highlighting the pathetic hypocrisy of marketing trauma in theatre at the expense of real people.

My Mother’s Funeral breaks down what it means to write from your own experience to receive financial gratification from others. The prowess of Jones’ writing and Charlotte Bennett’s direction is unique and utterly refreshing amongst an arts landscape that is so readily available to sacrifice its creatives for the sake of entertainment and shock value. The perspective this show provides and its innovative delivery and conception is deeply essential.


MY MOTHER’S FUNERAL: THE SHOW at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe – Roundabout @ Summerhall

Reviewed on 23rd August 2024

by Molly Knox

Photography by Nicola Young

 

 


MY MOTHER’S

MY MOTHER’S

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THE BLEEDING TREE

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Southwark Playhouse Borough

THE BLEEDING TREE at Southwark Playhouse Borough

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“Vaguely Gothic, but down to earth; a touch of the supernatural brushing against domestic tragedy”

A crackling wail, somewhere between a synthesized didgeridoo and a death rattle, rises from the red earth, swelling into an anguished crescendo while three nameless women hiss with venom, spitting bitter fear and loathing at a corpse we cannot see. The mother and two daughters move and speak in staccato, jarring rhythms; locked in their state of shock and disbelief, dread and relief. The lifeless body is their husband and father, who gasped his last with a bullet through the neck.

This is not going to be comfortable viewing. Angus Cerini’s β€œThe Bleeding Tree” is a hard-hitting murder ballad, poetic in its delivery yet full of raw rage. Mariah Gale is the mother while Elizabeth Dulau and Alexandra Jensen play the daughters, interchangeable and often indistinguishable from each other. The emotional power is impressive as they sway between culpability and victimhood. Their abuser, now lifeless on the ground, still torments them.

The one flaw in this otherwise impeccable hour-long play is that we are never sure whose side we are on. But then maybe that is the whole point of Cerini’s writing. The lines between the abused and the abuser become blurred. We never learn the full extent or true nature of the suffering caused by the deceased, but we are stealthily led to believe his end is justified. Yet somehow, we are not asked to judge. We are witnesses but not the jury.

 

 

Ali Hunter’s atmospheric lighting places the action in an eternal twilight. Jasmine Swan’s simple setting cleverly conveys the internal claustrophobia of these characters while also evoking the bleak terracotta backdrop of the Outback where further perils may lie. A knock at the door causes panic. The women ripple in unison as their savage secret is in danger of being discovered by their neighbours. Gale, Dulau and Jensen deftly switch into the roles of the outsiders; Mr Jones and Mrs Smith, and the postman-come-policeman who feed them with alibis and cover-ups. The beautifully flowing dialogue belies the complex issues bubbling underneath. Many a blind eye is being turned. Yet it seems that the events that led to this bloody conclusion were also equally ignored by those that perhaps should have seen it coming.

Sophie Drake’s minimal staging allows the cast to focus on the crucial and radical text. We learn what β€˜The Bleeding Tree’ of the play’s title refers to, and it is quite harrowing. The protagonists may be left with mixed feelings eating away at them, from the inside out, but that is nothing compared to the literal fate of the decomposing body of evidence before them that needs to be disposed of.

β€œThe Bleeding Tree” forces us to face important questions. Instead of offering answers it dresses them in atmospheric layers of theatricality. The result is something quite extraordinary. Vaguely Gothic, but down to earth; a touch of the supernatural brushing against domestic tragedy. Cerini writes with the pen of a poet but the mind of a crime writer. A thrilling combination that, combined with the excellent performances, is a theatrical experience that makes us look at its extreme subject matter in a new light.

 


THE BLEEDING TREE at Southwark Playhouse Borough

Reviewed on 3rd June 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Lidia Crisafulli

 

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at Southwark Playhouse venues:

FUN AT THE BEACH ROMP-BOMP-A-LOMP!! | β˜…β˜…β˜… | May 2024
MAY 35th | β˜…β˜…β˜…Β½ | May 2024
SAPPHO | β˜…β˜… | May 2024
CAPTAIN AMAZING | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | May 2024
WHY I STUCK A FLARE UP MY ARSE FOR ENGLAND | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | April 2024
SHERLOCK HOLMES: THE VALLEY OF FEAR | β˜…β˜…Β½ | March 2024
POLICE COPS: THE MUSICAL | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | March 2024
CABLE STREET – A NEW MUSICAL | β˜…β˜…β˜… | February 2024
BEFORE AFTER | β˜…β˜…β˜… | February 2024
AFTERGLOW | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | January 2024

THE BLEEDING TREE

THE BLEEDING TREE

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