Tag Archives: George Dennis

Faces In the Crowd

Faces in the Crowd

★★★★

Gate Theatre

Faces In the Crowd

Faces in the Crowd

Gate Theatre

Reviewed – 21st January 2020

★★★★

 

“a stunning exploration of narrative infidelity, space, and the way in which stories shape our view of the world, and of ourselves”

 

If a baby’s crying in the room next door, how can you sit down and write? When children’s toys litter the ground, and the only desk is taken by your husband, how can you find space to be creative? If fiction resembles life too closely, how can you be sure what’s real and what’s not? Ellen McDougall’s new play, at the theatre she artistic directs, is a stunning exploration of narrative infidelity, space, and the way in which stories shape our view of the world, and of ourselves.

Adapted from Valeria Luiselli’s 2011 novel, published in an English translation by Christina McSweeney in 2014, three interweaving narratives form a vibrant tapestry on stage. The Woman, played with vigour and conviction by Jimena Larraguivel, attempts to tell her audience a story. A nagging child (played alternatively by Juan-Leonardo Solari and Santiago Huertas Ruiz) interrupts with comments and questions. A baby’s cries force her away, leaving little notes for her husband to read out at her command. Upsetting the flow of her tale, these moments of male pressure remind of the ease at which women’s creative potential can be disturbed. One long table dominates the stage. At first, The Husband (Neil D’Souza) sits here to work. It’s only after The Woman befriends a neighbour, The Musician (Anoushka Lucas) that she finds a table, and space, of her own to write. Working as a translator in Mexico City, she discovers a book of letters by Mexican poet Gilberto Owen that so reflect her situation she feels compelled to get them published. As her attempts hit various stumbling blocks, Owen comes to haunt her present, causing her grip on what’s real and what’s not to slowly dissolve.

Larraguivel is a dominating force in this production. Holding the audience in her grip throughout, this is her story to tell. Direct address keeps us hooked, and intriguing moments of introduction – “This is what I looked like smoking a cigarette” – underscore how narration and presentation are two very different beasts. Unafraid to be messy, Bethany Wells’ design brings in the bright colours that invoked Mexico for English people like me. George Dennis’ sound design set an immediate sense of time and place in brief moments, and the songs provided by Lucas throughout are simply gorgeous.

McDougall’s collage-like adaptation interlaces the narratives neatly. The theatre’s programme and posters credit the original author and translator prominently, fitting in a play where translation becomes a key aspect. In fact, the whole market of Latin American translation is almost mocked. What is it that English-speaking audiences seek from these texts? What do we expect? As The Woman asks, who is made invisible when we experience these stories?

If Faces in the Crowd has a flaw, it feels a little too long, the text not always gripping when it should, and at times the narrative strand a little unclear. But perhaps that’s the point. Like the house in which The Woman writes, telling stories can get messy. Find your space, and fight for it.

 

Reviewed by Robert Frisch

Photography by Ellie Kurttz

 


Faces in the Crowd

Gate Theatre until 8th February

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:
Dear Elizabeth | ★★ | January 2019
Why The Child Is Cooking In The Polenta | ★★ | May 2019
Mephisto [A Rhapsody] | ★★★★★ | October 2019

 

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A Very Very Very Dark Matter – 4 Stars

A Very Very Very Dark Matter

A Very Very Very Dark Matter

Bridge Theatre

Reviewed – 29th October 2018

★★★★

“the joviality imbues a sense of giddy discomfort to the atmosphere as the script and the cast expertly squeeze every ounce of black humour out”

 


With his unique brand of dark humour and storytelling, Martin McDonagh has authored countless classics, from The Pillowman to Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri. Naturally, then, there’s a lot of excitement surrounding his latest play that dismantles the glorification of nineteenth-century writers like Hans Christian Anderson and Charles Dickens. Does it deliver? Very very very much.

The play centres around the notion that all of Anderson’s work was actually written by a Congolese pigmy named Marjory, who he keeps imprisoned in a pendulous box in his attic, and that he takes all the credit for her work (occasionally making edits, such as changing The Little Black Mermaid to just The Little Mermaid). It later transpires that Dickens is doing exactly the same thing with Marjory’s sister. This is of course an allusion to the cultural appropriation and colonialisation of BAME narratives, which McDonagh attempts to heighten by linking it with a time travel plot involving a massacre carried out by King Leopold II of Belgium. However, this never really seems to add anything of substance to the main themes of the play, and leaves you wondering exactly what its purpose was.

This is one of McDonagh’s most comically focussed works, with characters frequently playing directly to the audience and firing off joke after joke. Most land spectacularly, and the joviality imbues a sense of giddy discomfort to the atmosphere as the script and the cast expertly squeeze every ounce of black humour out. Jim Broadbent as Anderson is pitch-perfect, portraying him as lovable and somewhat bumbling, despite having committed the horrific act of enslaving Marjory – he’s the quintessential product of imperialism. Johnetta Eula’Mae Ackles makes her stage debut as Marjory and does a formidable job as the driven and unstoppable genius behind Anderson’s work, and Phil Daniels and Elizabeth Berrington are excellently paired as Charles and Catherine Dickens, whose hate-fuelled chemistry makes for some of the show’s most hilarious moments.

Anna Fleischle’s gothic design exacerbates the fairytale-esque quality of the story, with Anderson’s cavernous attic being adorned with marionettes that enhance the disturbing undertones of the subject matter. Matthew Dunster’s direction, too, strikes a just-right balance of not labouring the themes while also not downplaying the intellectual drive of the script. And A Very Very Very Dark Matter has intellectual drive in droves – it asks questions on celebrity, appropriation, oppression, colonialisation, imperialism, authorship, and the nature of stories and time itself. It spends so long asking questions, however, that it forgets to lay the foundation for the audience to find answers. This is a play that will subsequently gnaw away at your mind for a long time, as you ponder the reach of its implications. A Very Very Very Dark Matter takes you on a mesmeric journey, but never quite finds it destination.

 

Reviewed by Tom Francis

Photography by Manuel Harlan

 


A Very Very Very Dark Matter

Bridge Theatre until 6th January

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:
Julius Caesar | ★★★★★ | January 2018
Nightfall | ★★★ | May 2018
Allelujah! | ★★★★ | July 2018

 

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