Tag Archives: Charlie Beck

Gentlemen

Gentlemen

★★★★

Arcola Theatre

GENTLEMEN at the Arcola Theatre

★★★★

Gentlemen

“There are brilliant nods to The History Boys in this performance, but it feels like a fresh, very current take on those dynamics.”

Three men sit in the welfare office of a prestigious British University. It is never stated whether it is Oxford or Cambridge, but it doesn’t matter, it’s one of the two. There has been an incident of plagiarism and one student, the quintessential lad about town Greg (Charlie Beck) is accused of copying his quiet bisexual peer Casper (Issam Al Ghussain). Bumbling and cringeworthy welfare officer ‘Timby’ (Edward Judge) just wants to show he’s one of the boys – he’s a student too! Laddish showboating, mute resentment and shameless pandering continue as do the reported incidents. But as the severity of the accusations escalates, so too does the complexity and moral confusion of these three characters.

Richard Speir’s direction complements Matt Parvin’s script to create a tense and uncomfortable piece, which subverts and contorts traditional power dynamics and builds a mounting sense of dread. The play is also very funny, especially at the beginning. The first half builds up archetypal characters which the second half breaks down. It could have taken it further, but the moral tangles and muddied sense of right and wrong which the play toys with are fascinating.

All three performers have shining moments. Beck brings emotional depth to the laddish party boy Greg, and his performance is genuinely moving. Al Ghussain has mesmerising physicality, demonstrated particularly in a piece of physical theatre during a dream sequence and a joyous moment of dance. However, the stand-out performance is from Edward Judge as the tragic, and easily swayed welfare officer. There are brilliant nods to The History Boys in this performance, but it feels like a fresh, very current take on those dynamics.

Cecilia Trono’s set is an evocative, naturalistic replica of this kind of office, and the attention to detail transports us there. Will Alder’s lighting design is able to go wild in a nightclub scene and a dream sequence, and Jamie Lu’s sound design becomes particularly interesting in the second half.

The play is not perfect, and there are certainly elements that don’t work. For example, there are repeated references to General Franco’s attitude to gay men, which is not explored in enough detail to make it worth including, and feels like a lack of confidence in the beautiful simplicity of this concept. The best part of this play is the claustrophobic moral mess that these three men are trapped in. However, the idea behind this play, and the way it explores it, is interesting enough to make it recommendable.

 


GENTLEMEN at the Arcola Theatre

Reviewed on 9th October 2023

by Auriol Reddaway

Photography by Alex Brenner

 


 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

The Brief Life & Mysterious Death Of Boris III, King Of Bulgaria | ★★★★★ | September 2023
The Wetsuitman | ★★★ | August 2023
Union | ★★★ | July 2023
Duck | ★★★★ | June 2023
Possession | ★★★★★ | June 2023
Under The Black Rock | ★★★ | March 2023
The Mistake | ★★★★ | January 2023
The Poltergeist | ★★½ | October 2022
The Apology | ★★★★ | September 2022
L’Incoronazione Di Poppea | ★★★★ | July 2022

Gentlemen

Gentlemen

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The Breach

The Breach

★★★

Hampstead Theatre

The Breach

Hampstead Theatre

Reviewed – 12th May 2022

★★★

 

“The performances are uniformly magnificent: honest and brutal. Yet it stops just short of drawing us in emotionally”

 

Towards the end of Naomi Wallace’s “The Breach”, the joint protagonist, Jude, is imagining a version of the past that didn’t happen, but could have. It takes a while to get there but the scene encapsulates both the power and impotence of hindsight. The characters wrestle with regret, bereavement and guilt, but more so with the question of whether that could have been avoided had they acted differently.

The play jumps between 1977 and 1991, initially as two very different worlds but gradually they overlap and the two separate decades bear witness to each other. Set against a completely bare stage there is little to differentiate the two ages. Different actors play the younger and older versions of the characters. Between the scenes a stark line of white light sweeps the stage, brushing them away like skittles to replace them with their counterparts.

We begin in the seventies, in small town America, a time of restlessness, turbulence, political scandal and a questioning of traditional authority (there are extensive, weighty articles in the programme notes depicting the profound effects on the American youth of the Vietnam War and ‘Neoliberalism’ – although not touched upon at all in the script). Seventeen-year-old Jude (Shannon Tarbet) has taken it upon herself to protect her younger brother Acton (Stanley Morgan). They spend their days in the basement of their modest home creating their own world. Frayne (Charlie Beck) and Hoke (Alfie Jones) gate-crash this world – not so much friends of Acton but emotional racketeers. Conditions are laid and sacrifices must be made. Inevitably the bond between brother and sister is snapped in two. In hindsight, the love they shared that could have prevented this is the exact same love that caused it.

So, you cannot escape the actions of the past then. But can you learn from them? Tellingly there is no casting for the older Acton, but Jude (Jasmine Blackborow), Frayne (Douggie McMeekin) and Hoke (Tom Lewis) reconvene fourteen years later. As each snapshot of 1991 plays out onstage, more is revealed of the dangerous games the teenagers played, focusing on many issues – most notably sexual consent. A lot is said today about how it was a ‘different time’, back then. But accountability (rightly or wrongly) has no limits. As these thirty-somethings examine their past, one wonders who the victims and who the culprits are. And are the intervening years of guilt and atonement enough or should further punishment be executed? This play, while never giving us a succinct answer, suggests we punish ourselves enough. There are no winners.

Sarah Frankcom’s sharp and efficient direction matches Wallace’s writing which is as penetrative as ever. The performances are uniformly magnificent: honest and brutal. Yet it stops just short of drawing us in emotionally. We don’t quite see the fragility, fear and loneliness that lies beneath the rough exterior. Which is a shame, and a surprise. Based partially on past experience, it seems that Wallace has poured a lot of her own heart into the writing; but ultimately it appeals more to the intellect than to our hearts.

 

 

Reviewed by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Johan Persson

 


The Breach

Hampstead Theatre until 4th June

 

Recently reviewed at this venue:
Night Mother | ★★★★ | October 2021
The Forest | ★★★ | February 2022
The Fever Syndrome | ★★★ | April 2022

 

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