“the stilted opening gives way to a no less thought-provoking play
Told from the perspective of the seemingly deaf and mute patient ‘Chief’ Bromden, ‘One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest’ takes place in a psychiatric ward in 1950s Oregon. The impetus for the story is the arrival of R.P.McMurphy, a gambler who has tried his luck feigning psychopathy to spend a sentence in the relative relaxation of an asylum rather than toiling on a prison farm. However, he finds that things won’t be such plain sailing when he meets the inimitable ‘Big’ Nurse Ratched.
As the weak and pliable Dr Spivey (Jonny Morton) explains to the patients, the ward is a microcosm of society at large. Whilst on one level we are watching corruptions of power and primitive tolerance of mental illness in fifties asylums; one can also read this as a allegory for the much larger machinations of state action and punishment of those who challenge the status quo. Particular attention is drawn to notions of masculinity, often tied up in sexual prowess, and how the power this exercises over individuals can have devastating consequences.
Olivier Leclair is excellent as the dynamic, lovable rogue McMurphy. His antics bring life to the ward developing a sense of camaraderie between the characters and building their confidence through fun and friendship.
Paul Harris gives a standout performance as Harding, whose droll and cerebral manner feels out of place from the rest of the patients. Harris’ feisty challenge of McMurphy builds perfectly in intensity, until he flips from anger to resignation to comic effect. Bradley Davis’ stoicism as Chief Bromden creates a steady pace which anchors the piece, whilst Lauren Cambridge as Candy Star makes a big impact during her short appearances, acting as a bright and stark contrasting female figure to the controlled and cruel Nurse Ratched, played by Belinda McGuirk.
Robin Don’s set design is relatively sparse but carefully considered. The window, which is the only link between the ward and the outside world, looms over the middle of the stage, illuminating the centre floor with rings of painted light slowly fading to grey. This acts as a constant reminder of the possibility of escape from the patients, in some cases voluntary, commitment to the ward.
The 1975 film version of the story, starring Jack Nicholson will inevitably be a draw for audiences. And although the energy of the piece is carried by a few members of the large cast, the stilted opening gives way to a no less thought-provoking play.
“McGuirk gives a delightful performance, drawing the audience in with her bold and bubbly characterisation”
Single narrative performances are a theatrical style whose popularity has fluctuated over the years, even though it has maintained an underground following. However, recently, there does seem to be a resurgence of theatres within the capital that are allocating more space within their programme to showcase this art form. Whether it is in the shape of a poetry slam, a spoken word night, or a solo performance event, the singular voice is taking centre stage once more. North London’s Chickenshed Theatre is one such place that has jumped on the bandwagon. Their new production, Monolog, is a celebration of the lone voice, and the vast, diverse approaches in which it can be heard.
In an intimate and relaxed setting, four, non-linking monologues that include new writing as well as the work of established writers are given exposure, delivered with vitality and enthusiasm. Opening with Her Big Chance by Alan Bennett, Belinda McGuirk presents the piece from what is probably the most recognisable collection of dramatic monologues, Talking Heads. Julie Walters had originally played the part of starry-eyed actress, Lesley, for the small screen, but here, McGuirk gives a delightful performance, drawing the audience in with her bold and bubbly characterisation. The monologue does seem dated now, with its references and the character’s moral naivety, though still topical in light of the recent uncoverings of sexual abuse and harassment cases within the film industry.
A newly commissioned autobiographical piece, This Is Me, by Diane Samuels (best known for her play Kindertransport) is the second offering. The performance is a snapshot of memories of her life with alternating performances by either Belinda McGuirk as the older Diane, or Lucy Mae Beacock as the younger, depending on which performance you see. I saw the younger self, sweetly portrayed by Beacock using an unconventional method of audience participation to reveal the next vignette of her early life, gradually building the bigger picture of who she is. Beacock gives a confident and assured performance as the young Diane, but the content is rather underwhelming.
The most thrilling contributions to the show are the two monologues from the ‘New Writing’ selection, which have a fresh and vibrant voice. A total of six have been written by various affiliates of the Chickenshed community, rotating between which are presented. Last Piece of the Sun, collaboratively devised by Alesha Bhakoo, Dave Carey and Milly Rolle, follows the heart-breaking consequences of a one-night stand, which Bhakoo performs with real believability. Whilst, the kooky, I Find Love In A Bin (In Waterloo Station) by Peter Dowse, is wonderfully brought to life by Sarah Connelly, who imaginatively uses the abstract imagery to her advantage.
This showcase of work is a pleasant reminder of how important the monologue is to the arts, and the power in which in can behold in telling a narrative. Moving through varying emotions and periods of time Monolog demonstrates how far the form has come along, whilst contemplating how much wider its parameters could be pushed in the future.
