THE OCEAN AT THE END OF THE LANE at the New Victoria Theatre | UK Tour
★★★★
“a wealth of eye catching staging and sound effects”
The Ocean at the End of the Lane, based on Neil Gaiman’s book of the same title, adapted by Joel Horwood, and directed by Katy Rudd, will not disappoint Gaiman fans. This production, which opened at the National Theatre in 2019, is now touring at the New Victoria Theatre in Woking. This show is a treat for those who enjoy spectacle. It has a wealth of eye catching staging and sound effects, plus a seamless merging of human actors and puppets of all shapes and sizes. The story is about a twelve year old boy, told from his perspective, and it is, in typical Gaiman fashion, a nightmarish tale. It begins with a suicide in a car.
The Ocean at the End of the Lane is set in a place both familiar, and deeply and thrillingly strange. A boy of the verge of adolescence finds himself battling forces beyond his imagination and control, assisted only by his best friend, Lettie. Life has been pretty unremarkable for the Boy and his family until the night when their lodger’s body is discovered in the family car. The world as the Boy knows it suddenly becomes unrecognizable, and inexplicable. Together, he and Lettie attempt to banish the supernatural forces unleashed by the suicide into their placid neighbourhood. It turns out that Lettie and her family are pretty strange also, hiding in plain sight in an old farmhouse that appears to have existed forever. Lettie is similarly timeless, showing the Boy a duck pond that can become an ocean, and how to fight a flea that has become a monster beyond imagining. Horwood’s adaptation is true to its sources, but it does suffer from a common problem when adapting novels to the stage. Sooner or later, the dramatic action gets swallowed up by the exposition, and the pace begins to drag. But there is so much going on visually in in this production that most audiences will not mind. The sympathetic characters, and the strength of the story, will keep people happily engaged.
Despite the lengthy playing time of play, time passes quickly enough in the company of Katy Rudd’s imaginative direction, and her talented band of actors and puppeteers. There is the set, designed by Fly Davis, which gives us a sense of a mysterious dark space framed by tree branches, and which also light up like Christmas trees when occasion demands. There’s a nice shift between the every day clothing of the Boy and his family, with the outlandish, out of time clothes of Lettie, her mother and grandmother (designed by Samuel Wyer, who also designed the puppets.) Paule Constable’s lighting is likewise essential for a well defined shift between worlds. But the real power of this production is wielded by the actors and puppeteers, who not only bring the main characters to life, but the constantly changing sets as well. With a nod to the techniques of bunraku, figures dressed in black are constantly bringing furniture on and off the stage. More frighteningly, they create the huge, otherworldly monsters that are conjured out the liminal spaces that exist just on the edge of the Sussex countryside. Finn Caldwell’s puppetry direction, together with Steven Hoggett’s movement direction, deserve special notice for all the complicated work that makes this such a visual feast.
The actors are more than up to the task of working with such a complex palette of sound, light and visuals. The Boy (played on this evening by Keir Ogilvy) and Lettie (Millie Hikasa) are a sympathetic duo caught up in an epic battle. Charlie Brooks, in the thankless task of playing the villain, deftly manages the shifts between the seemingly unthreatening Ursula, and her terrifying alter-ego. Dad, played by Trevor Fox, is particularly good as a man caught up in hiding his grief and trying to remain cheerful and positive for his children. The witchy trio of Lettie, her mother Winnie (Kemi-Bo Jacobs) and grandmother Old Mrs Hempstock (Finty Williams) bring magic and comic reassurance to the stage. The scenes in which they appear always seem brighter and more vivid, despite the lack of modern conveniences in their old farmhouse.
Fans of Neil Gaiman’s work will enjoy this show. It’s also well worth a visit for audiences who have never seen this kind of production before. The Ocean at the End of the Lane gives us performers who do the lion’s share of the work. In their hard working hands, they show us the collision of reality and magic. An ocean really does seem to come on stage for the children to play in. See it, and marvel at all the things a theatre of the imagination can do.
“This is theatre at its most hallucinatory and wonderful, yet fundamentally simplistic; created by a collective vision that you forget is there.”
“Which story do you prefer?” asks Piscine “Pi” Patel of the two Japanese officials investigating the shipwreck from which he is the only survivor. We are approaching the end of this fantastical tale and it is a beautifully pertinent and intentional moment. It is a much more satisfying question rather than “which story they think is the true one”. ‘Life is a story’ and ‘You can choose your story’ are just two of the themes that wash up from the cruel sea of allegories that “Life of Pi” presents. Choosing what you believe and, in turn, controlling those beliefs is as treacherous as taming a Bengal tiger.
Transferring from Sheffield’s Crucible Theatre (delayed by the pandemic), Max Webster’s production, adapted by Lolita Chakrabarti from Yann Martel’s novel, has predictably been hailed the new “War Horse”. Yet it is a different beast entirely. As intricate and astonishing as the puppetry is, the magic is also created from the enthralling central performances and the jaw-dropping stage craft. Under Webster’s sabre-sharp direction, the entire team of designers and cast capture the imagination, not just of the author, but of the audience too. It melds them into one of the same, both feeding off each other. It is an almost miraculous feat that is achieved, not from high tech wizardry, but from sheer inventiveness and trust in the human mind.
While Finn Caldwell’s and Nick Barnes’ puppetry breathe life into the wild creatures that pace the stage, Hiran Abeysekera’s central performance as ‘Pi’ is the life-force that pulses through the piece. Abeysekera pulls us into his worlds; his childhood at his father’s zoo, the hospital recovery ward, and onto his lifeboat. We willingly share his perils as he survives over seven months adrift on the Pacific Ocean. Originally accompanied by a hyena, zebra, orangutan and Bengal tiger, he is eventually alone with just the tiger. ‘Pi’ survives in part by acting upon profound philosophical questions that come to him like ghosts; and by pulling shreds of advice from his memory. “Use everything you have and defy the odds”. This latter truism can definitely be applied to the design of the piece in which the minds of Tim Hatley (set), Tim Lutkin (lighting) and Andrzej Goulding (video) have merged to conjure a breath-taking backdrop to the tale. There is a spell-binding moment when ‘Pi’ leaps off his boat into the ocean, vanishing in front of our eyes only to reappear elsewhere from the waves. No high-tech wizardry. Just inventive trickery.
This is theatre at its most hallucinatory and wonderful, yet fundamentally simplistic; created by a collective vision that you forget is there. In the same way, we are aware that the puppets – most noticeably the tiger – are being controlled by four different puppeteers, yet we don’t see them in our minds. What we see is the personality of a sentient creature vividly conjured by the language of its movement. The beast becomes human.
‘Pi’ tells us more than one story. We have his story with animals – fantastical, spiritual and dreamlike. And we have the harsh, scientific realism. “Which story do you prefer?” Pi asks, while provoking our silent answer with “You want a story to confirm what you already know”. This production challenges what we might already know about theatre but also, without a shadow of a doubt, reinforces our belief in the power of theatre. Long after you leave the auditorium, you will be bound by its spell. Abeysekera’s witty, compelling, and poised performance depicts a solo voyage. Surrounded by an incredible, indispensable company of actors it manages to transcend a single life. This is life itself. A fantastic voyage. This is Theatre.
