“superb if a little bit daunting initially, with puzzles that really kick your brain into gear and feel rewarding to solve”
We all love a good conspiracy theory, don’t we? The idea that there’s some puppet master pulling strings we never knew about in the service of some ulterior purpose that sounds a little bit ludicrous always has a certain allure, and The Guild taps into that right from the off.
As the six audience members in the Lookout, a corner of the upper level of the Underbar in the Vaults, get handed a complimentary drink each, the members of Mostly Harmless inform us that we are potential recruits for The Guild, a secret society that inconspicuously controls every aspect of life as we know it. To join The Guild, we have to solve a series of puzzles, which will unveil the antidote to the poison that it’s revealed our complimentary drinks were laced with. And we’ve only got 30 minutes to do it.
The dynamic will feel familiar to anyone who’s done an escape room before, as you’ll have to work together with the other audience members – total strangers, most likely – to find the solutions to a host of riddles, puzzles, and games. It can feel a bit overwhelming at first as you initially have to find six different answers at once, although there’s a superb level of variety that allows for each audience member to come into their own – ranging from learning a song on a recorder to navigating the Vaults with a compass for hidden clues. The wild card element is of course the people you’re playing with, as the frenzy of having to establish a group dynamic amongst the puzzles can be a bit intimidating. A member of Mostly Harmless is on hand to help you along should you need it, so you’re never hitting a brick wall, but unless you’re a particularly outgoing individual, The Guild is probably best experienced with a group of friends.
That said, the content of The Guild is superb if a little bit daunting initially, with puzzles that really kick your brain into gear and feel rewarding to solve. And you definitely will want to solve them – the antidote is delicious.
“you’ll go and you’ll have a good time, but there’s not much of a lasting impression”
Since its inception in 2015, Four Play has more or less consistently had a production somewhere in London – a feat that usually only Shakespeare and Chekhov achieve. Does that mean Jake Brunger’s play is of the same calibre? Alas, not quite.
Four Play’s plot is kickstarted when Rafe (Ashley Byam) and Pete (Keeran Blessie), getting some serious FOMO from being each other’s only ever partners for the past seven years, proposition their friend Michael (Declan Spaine) to sleep with each of them to get all their anxieties out of their systems, which ultimately exposes the cracks in their relationship, as well as the jealousies in the supposedly polygamous arrangement Michael has with Andrew (Marc MacKinnon). The play gently touches on the idea of monogamy and whether the traditions of heterosexual relationships can simply be transposed onto homosexual relationships, although if you’re seeking a deep and nuanced exploration then look elsewhere; this is mostly frivolous stuff.
Brunger’s script is full of quips about labradoodles and your nan watching porn, and can sometimes feel like it relies on them a little too heavily to mask a lack of substance. This especially shows in what are clearly some updates to the references in the script – an exasperating gag about Apple TV stuck out as a particular offender. The writing does find moments of really juicy tension – a dinner party with all four characters was a notable highlight, in which Rafe and Pete try to maintain a lie that they’re unaware Andrew already knows is a lie. The script also moves at an excellent pace for the most part, although the final few scenes outstay their welcome a little.
The performances are also a mixed bag – Byam is radiantly energetic as Rafe but he and Blessie struggle to find chemistry, while Spaine’s aloofness teeters into an unengaged apathy a little too often. MacKinnon finds a lovely amount of depth in Andrew, with a standout performance at the aforementioned dinner party, and some very poignant moments with Rafe. The actors overall feel somewhat over-directed by Matthew Iliffe, resulting in an inauthenticity that makes it clear when someone’s been told to sit down or move across the stage or gesticulate in a certain way, which is a shame as Carrie-Ann Stein’s modern kitchen set design establishes a genuine domesticity so effectively.
Four Play ultimately feels like fast food theatre. Like a trip to McDonalds, you’ll go and you’ll have a good time, but there’s not much of a lasting impression and there’s nothing to really chew on.
