Tag Archives: Deirdre O’Halloran

Red Pitch

Red Pitch

★★★★

Bush Theatre

RED PITCH at the Bush Theatre

★★★★

Red Pitch

“It bubbles with slang and a million references a second”

Red Pitch is back at The Bush to much fanfare. The first time around it sold out, won awards, and received great critical acclaim. It’s easy to see why. It’s a powerhouse of a play, and refreshingly rooted in its time and place.

The show follows three boys Omz (Francis Lovehall) Bilal (Kedar Williams-Stirling, now of Sex Education fame) and Joey (Emeka Sesay) who play football together, and dream of being scouted, even as their neighbourhood is uprooted around them.

It’s a play about gentrification, and the way that communities are being torn up, the souls of areas being scrubbed away and replaced with generic chain stores and luxury housing. But it’s told through these boys’ eyes, so the developers are ‘renewing endz’ and much of the discussion circles around the shutting of a favourite chicken shop. They’re charmingly innocent. It’s fresh, but it’s still angry.

Tyrell Williams’ script is fantastic. It bubbles with slang and a million references a second, building these teens up into completely believable characters. There’s no question of who these boys are, or where they’re from. In many ways the boys are very similar, but they have very different home lives, as well as different religions and levels of affluence. They’re united by their shared dream of becoming professional football players.

Daniel Bailey’s direction is dynamic and energetic. Footballs are dribbled across the stage – there’s a shockingly intense fight (directed by Kev McCurdy), which has the audience wincing and groaning. The performance is in the round, with the stage becoming a football pitch and each block of audience as part of the stands, there is fencing and barriers between us and the performers. There are flashing lights, like at a stadium (designed by Ali Hunter). Amelia Jane Hankin’s set is bare, it’s an empty pitch. This works very well, it keeps us connected to the action, but also gives a sense of voyeurism. We are watching, and to an extent enjoying, these boys’ struggle, which is especially powerful when they are unaware of the severity of what they’re discussing.

There’s a genuine tenderness between the boys, hidden beneath layers of ribbing and banter. It’s a beautiful connection to watch develop. All three performers are very strong. Sesay’s Joey, is the most anxious of the three. He offers up backup plans in case they’re not scouted, and is the most affected by the change in ‘endz’. Sesay deftly switches between the anxious young man, and joyous teen. Williams-Stirling as Bilal is focussed entirely on the football, but his range is strong, giving us moving moments of pause and dramatic moments of comedy. Lovehall’s Omz is the joker of the gang, but also has the hardest home life. Lovehall effortlessly portrays the struggle to keep things afloat and to keep the mask of nonchalance in place.

There are moments where this fast-paced play does lose momentum. It meanders along, enjoyably, but at times a little slowly. There are movement elements, which show the boys’ aspirations, but feel incongruous with the gritty realism of the rest of the piece.

Overall though, it’s a very special play. The characters it explores are rarely seen on stage, and it’s moving to watch.


RED PITCH at the Bush Theatre

Reviewed on 11th September 2023

by Auriol Reddaway

Photography by Helen Murray

 


 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

 

Paradise Now! | ★★★★★ | December 2022
The P Word | ★★★ | September 2022
Favour | ★★★★ | June 2022
Lava | ★★★★ | July 2021

Red Pitch

Red Pitch

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Robin Hood

Robin Hood: The Legend. Re-Written

★★

Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre

ROBIN HOOD: THE LEGEND. RE-WRITTEN at Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre

★★

Robin Hood

“The performances are uniformly strong, joyful, silly and skilful”

 

Everyone has their own favourite image of Robin Hood, whether it be Kevin Costner, Jason Connery, Russell Crowe (really?); or the Disney rendition. Or a camp pantomime outlaw in green tights. Carl Grose has taken three of those archetypes and has them gate-crash his alternative – and quite eccentric – version of the legend. The device is an embodiment of the quirky humour that, unlike the sleight of hand archery skills on display, often misses its target.

Part of the problem is that nobody, including Grose, seems to know where the target is. You can’t see the wood for the trees in this overgrown Sherwood Forest where tangled brambles of offbeat ideas lie in wait like thorny catch weed. You don’t need to wade too far in to get lost. Or frustrated enough to want to turn back. Tax collectors in hi vis jackets delight at relieving commoners of their bow fingers. Fingers which, no less, end up in a casket the sheriff keeps hidden away, occasionally lifting the lid to allow the dismembered digits to prophesise to him in squeaky voices. We are in a pretty slaughterous world where scarlet blood puddles and muddles the greenery. Where fact, fiction, myth and legend collide at the whim of an insurgent history teacher on acid.

The opening moments are magical, the scene set by the Balladeer (Nandi Bhebhe; velvet voiced and spellbinding). The landscape is borrowed from Jez Butterworth’s ‘Jerusalem’ as the mystical atmosphere swiftly morphs into a kind of ‘state of the nation’ play. “Who owns England?”, the downtrodden ask. Sheriff Baldwyn (a commanding performance from Alex Mugnaioni) keeps the King in a permanent state of befuddlement by spiking his tea in order to have free reign to be as dastardly as can be. Paul Hunter’s portrayal of the king is a masterclass in comic buffoonery, while still conveying that this hapless monarch knows much more than he is letting on.

Chiara Stephenson’s split-level set crudely separates the two classes, but there is plenty of social mobility. Not least the sheriff’s grog-guzzling wife, Marian (Ellen Robertson – in fine, playful form). We are never quite sure of her motives, but her disdain of, and possibly guilt over, her privilege drives her to extremes of disguise, the likes of which would be far too big a spoiler to reveal here. An ensemble troupe of Merry Men (excuse the Olde Worlde gender reference) create the required mayhem to subvert the established order. Apparently, it all started with a plan to build a new road, putting much of the forest at risk. A rather throwaway shuffle onto the environmentalist bandwagon, but I guess Grose felt the need.

The performances are uniformly strong, joyful, silly and skilful. It must have been a task, but director Melly Still guides the company through the mayhem with a steady hand. For the most part. At interval, the lawns are littered with bemused expressions heading for solace at the bar. It is short lived. The second act gets jaw-droppingly bizarre as we become lost in a sea of abdications, beheadings and resurrections. In the spirit of true farce, some ends are tied up, but no matter how hard we try the disjointed fragments of this production never really meet in our minds. The theatrical trickery has to be admired (Ira Mandela Siobhan is compelling as the conjuring but doomed villain, Gisburne) but the overall journey is unnavigated. Lost in the forest, left to make it up as it goes along.

As the sun sets and a crescent moon hangs above Regent’s Park, we file out into the night wondering if what we have just seen really did come from the same writer who penned “Dead Dog in a Suitcase” and “The Grinning Man”. The tagline in the PR blurb pronounces “Think you know the story of Robin Hood? Think again!”. It promises revelation, but the question remains the same as we leave the theatre.

 

Reviewed on 23rd June 2023

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Pamela Raith

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

 

Once On This Island | ★★★★ | May 2023
Legally Blonde | ★★★ | May 2022
Romeo and Juliet | ★★★½ | June 2021

 

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