SH!T-FACED SHAKESPEARE: MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING at the Leicester Square Theatre
★★★★★
“It is utterly chaotic, but that’s the glory of it”
A staple of the Edinburgh fringe, the premise of Sh!t-faced Shakespeare is simple: it’s a traditional Shakespeare performance (with liberties taken for comic purposes, of course) where one performer is, for want of a better word, sh*t-faced. That performer rotates every night, as do the cast, and the roles. No two performances will ever be the same…
Don’t go to this if you’re expecting a genuine production of Much Ado, it’s more like a crazed improvised performance, with chunks of Shakespeare loosely hanging it together.
Luckily, the sober performers are also packing in the gags and the quick improv. There is a risk with the concept that when the drunk performer isn’t on stage, the audience is left merely watching a Shakespeare play, and maybe not a great performance of it. However, this is not the case with this troupe – a running bit about Benedick having chlamydia, quick one-liners about choir boys and priests, dragging an audience member into the fray – this cast (and director Stacey Norris) know what they’re doing and do it well.
It is utterly chaotic, but that’s the glory of it. When things go wrong (and they do, often) it is part of the fun. Mics cut out, parts of the set (designed by Nicola Jones) are thrown from the stage, costumes fall apart, it all makes it more ridiculous, and more joyous.
A crucial role is played by the compare, for us it was Beth-Louise Priestley, who is on hand to keep the show ticking over, much to the horror of the drunk performer (Flora Sowerby) who seems mostly to want to monologue about the beauty of beards. Priestley runs around, mopping up spills, gathering Sowerby back from the audience, where she’s escaped, and blowing an air horn when things get too messy. There are times when this isn’t enough, and the chaos takes over, people talking over one another and all aiming to grab the spotlight. Most of the time though, it works well. Very well.
Sowerby shines as a drunk Beatrice, but the rest of the cast are also very strong. Holly Durkin and Matthew Seager make a very sweet Hero and Claudio, and Chris Lane is a deliciously evil Don John. John Mitton is a particularly quick Benedick, who manages to keep character, even while delivering witty one-liners. Stacey Norris delights as Leonata, bringing a real joy and feminist flavour to a usually boring part.
7pm is quite early for this sort of show, it feels like it could’ve been in a later slot, but no one seems to mind and the roars from the audience demonstrate that even on a Wednesday at 7pm, people are very up for this.
On a muggy Monday night, we descended into the bowels of the former paint factory. Steep rakes on either side of the stage, coupled with the stage floor being covered in a rough textured sand paper, evoked a gladiatorial event. People fanned themselves with programmes, murmuring about the warmth. And then the play began. From the first scene, where a pregnant woman remains still and strained, against a busy motif of a London train, Possession had the audience in the palm of its hand.
Possession is a mutli-generational collection of moments, which come together to tell the story of a life, and a country. It is at once personal and political, both a call to arms, and a quiet tragedy.
We follow Hope (Diany Samba-Bandza), who is both protagonist and narrator. Hope is born at Victoria station to Kasambayi (Sarah Amankwah) newly arrived from the Democratic Republic of Congo. Hope’s path later crosses with Alice Young (Dorothea Myer-Bennett), a foreign correspondent who is struggling to juggle her work and being a new mother. Into this contemporary world is weaved the story of Alice Seeley-Harris (also played by Myer-Bennett), a Victorian missionary’s wife in King Leopold’s Congo. Across London and the DRC this story unfurls itself, not relying on linear narrative, but following theme and character, to build a complex and rich portrait of these women.
Sasha Hails’ script is brave and confident. It sweeps across generations and characters, knitting together a past and a present, with hopes for the future. There are moments where it could feel weighed down with exposition, there is a lot of discussion about the cobalt mines in modern day DRC and the atrocities that are associated with them. But it doesn’t. The script is informative and impactful, without slipping into preachiness.
The spirit and passion of the play is let loose through Oscar Pearce’s direction and Sarah Beaton’s design. Every inch of the space is used and there is an incredible sense of movement while also allowing for moments of pause and reflection. Photographs are projected onto flowing jagged sheets which hang at the back of the stage. These are a combination of the photographs that the real Alice Seeley-Harris took, and present-day photos of the characters. The whole effect enhances the tangle of time which the play explores.
It is a tight, strong ensemble of five. Nedum Okonyia shows an impressive range, traversing ages, eras and nationalities with equal energy and poise. Milo Twomey shines as a conflicted Victorian missionary as well as bringing depth to Alice’s journalist lover who is essentially a sounding board for her inner conflict.
However, it is the three women who really steal the show. Samba-Bandza is warm and bubbly, which sets the tone for the whole piece. Myer-Bennett straddles the two generations, bringing to life the age-old question of a mother’s place and allows the audience the chance to empathise, if not necessarily sympathise with her characters. But the real star is Sarah Amankwah. We watch as Kasambayi, a quiet, proud and incredibly private woman, is empowered and emboldened to tell her story, and to grow beyond the horrors of her past. Amankwah brings a stillness to the frenetic movement of the play, and an undertone of quiet wisdom and grief.
Possession is a tapestry of memories, an informative and fascinating story, and a beautiful character study.
