“the play tries to stay realistic in its depiction of life in the fifties”
In 1950s England six people meet under the roof of Gladys’ Bed and Breakfast in Blackpool for a week that is going to be a turning point for everyone. While Gladys herself struggles with both her mother and her daughter, Mr Elbridge, one of their guests is gathering the courage to leave the house in drag for the first time and a young gay couple has to figure out where their relationship will lead. Although the play mainly focuses on Eddy and Tommy, it explores a multitude of themes, centring around the characters’ sexuality, their fears and dreams. While the individual narrative strands develop, we realise that nothing is at it seems to be in the beginning. For some, the escape from everyday life unearths scars from the past, for others it is a chance to escape fears and inhibitions.
Although shrill at times, the play tries to stay realistic in its depiction of life in the fifties, staying away from nostalgia and portraying both the mental and societal oppression the LGBT community had to endure. While there are some issues with the smooth transition of light changes and video clips, the play shines through its acting. Wendy Laurence James and Linda Clark in particular mesmerise with their funny, fast-paced and punchy dialogue while Macaulay Cooper convincingly portrays his character’s ambivalence between the excitement of his first love and the shame of being gay in a society where his sexuality is illegal.
The play merges relevant topical themes with comedy, jumping between humorous wit and tense, serious dialogue, constantly evolving its central discussion of small-mindedness versus the extraordinary, adventure versus belonging. Although Karlton Parris’ script is certainly a strong point of the play, there are times where slapstick seems to overtake the normally remarkable balance between comedy and serious exploration. Nevertheless, Once a Year on Blackpool Sands is very good entertainment and has a clear message at the end, appealing to pride and acceptance of the other.
“a prescient rather than topical piece of writing, nevertheless this undernourished production seems to miss an opportunity”
Something smells fresh at The Bread and Roses theatre, with a new artistic director, new writing talent and emerging actors all involved in The Buzz, one of three winning plays from the theatre’s 2016/17 competition for new works. Lydia Rynne’s dark comedy addresses the dubious ethics of celebrity through the persona of Kyla (Sassy Clyde), a once well-known TV star now reduced to being ‘a famous elbow’ intruding into the cropped photos of her popstar partner, Josh (Andrew Umerah), on the red carpet.
The show starts promisingly. Still buzzing after Josh’s triumphant night at the awards, the celebrity couple return to their shared penthouse to enjoy the event’s coverage on TV and social media. As Josh retires and Kyla drinks alone, her dropout brother Nate (Gabriel Cagan) visits, seemingly to tease her about her obsession with fame and berate her neglect of her family. Implausibly, he then sends her out for more alcohol, whereupon his partner-in-protest Cordelia (who humorously prefers the name ‘Anon’) joins him to drug and truss up the rock star, hoping to extract a confession of tax evasion. Matters deteriorate into black farce as Kyla returns and Cordelia blurts out another, more disturbing narrative.
As a promising new writer, Lydia Rynne and the actors could have hoped for firmer direction. Characterisations wander and the reliability of testimonies dissipates in a morass of unclear motivations. Andrew Umerah portrays the entitlement of success well, but finds it harder to keep up when the character becomes more ambiguous. Similarly, Sassy Clyde plays the wise-cracking lass from Chorley with no problems, but her character is supposed to have known fame and is still addicted to the idea of stardom. To be plausible, more steel and composure is needed, whereas Hannah Duffy’s conflicted Cordelia breezes in, emotionally committed in performance as if from another genre. Gabriel Cagan is solid as Nate, playing the anti-establishment squatter with all the naivety and angst the stereotype demands.
As incoming artistic director, Velenzia Spearpoint’s direction of her own first production may be an overreach. The unimaginative set (Sally Hardcastle) with its cardboard gold records feels more suited to Nate’s squatter community than to a global superstar, though it’s greatly helped by Chuma Emembolu on the sound desk, managing the output of the invisible big screen TV like a Dad with the remote control.
The nature of the line-up makes this a take on celebrity derived from the media rather experience, all white rugs and pink drinks. However, in the final moments the play hits a live cable, evoking recent celebrity rape scandals, the abuse of power and stifling of the female voice. Given the competition predates the scandals, The Buzz is a prescient rather than topical piece of writing, nevertheless this undernourished production seems to miss an opportunity.
