Tag Archives: Gino Ricardo Green

The Flea

The Flea

★★★★

The Yard Theatre

THE FLEA at The Yard Theatre

★★★★

The Flea

“this is an exciting and stylishly gritty production that does justice to every single story it tells”

In 1880s London, a flea bites a horse that kicks a man, setting off a chain of events that ripples from the boys of the postal service to Queen Victoria herself. Written by James Fritz and directed by Jay Miller, The Flea is an exploration of the threads that run across London, connecting the poor telegraph boy Charlie Swinscow with his mother, with local bad boy Henry Newlove, with Bertie Prince of Wales, and with a queer aristocratic sex ring that will shock the nation. It is not a period piece but a vibrant, vital play that sparks and seethes; an intoxicating production that probes sensitively at the questions at its heart.

Spanning such vast networks, it is remarkably self-assured. Just five cast members share twelve roles between them, and it is a testament to the extremely talented actors that the doubling works as well as it does. We watch Séamus McLean Ross swing effortlessly from the reserved and somewhat listless Charlie Swinscow to the roaring Bertie Prince of Wales, and Norah Lopez Holden is magnetic as the heartbroken seamstress Emily Swinscow, and as Queen Victoria. The highlight is Connor Finch, who delivers nuanced and moving performances as both the bruised, swaggering post office clerk Henry Newlove, and the aristocratic playboy Arthur Somerset, his life and love crumbling before him.

The set, designed by Naomi Kuyck-Cohen, is an unsettling approximation of a Victorian living room, or perhaps a giant mouth, where all the furniture is of an uncertain size, and the cast must clamber up chairs that hang high on the wall, or squeeze themselves into a tiny chaise lounge. This works well alongside the production’s exploration of scale: as we move through the play, it becomes apparent that just about everybody is under the boot of, or looking for the approval of, a higher power. The costumes, designed by Lambdog1066 (with hair and makeup by Dominique Hamilton), are also excellent, traversing the boundary between the ostensibly historical setting and the uncanny, slightly twisted world we find ourselves in. Combined with atmospheric yet subtle sound and lighting design (Josh Anio Grigg and Jonathan Chan respectively) the staging is very versatile, and apt for exploring the play’s sprawling plot.

At times the ambition is too great. It is a testament to Fritz’s writing that no relationship exists in a vacuum, but keeping up with each character’s complex associations and motivations can grow exhausting. Towards the end, the play grows slightly unwieldy and tonally uncertain, carried away by its own potential for vastness. Particularly an extended scene between Queen Victoria and God Himself, while brilliantly delivered, feels unnecessary and distracting. Instead, the play is at its best when it is probing closer to home, managing to pose some incredibly difficult ethical questions without purporting to offer any simple solutions. Ultimately, this is an exciting and stylishly gritty production that does justice to every single story it tells, all the way from the flea through to Queen Victoria.


THE FLEA at The Yard Theatre

Reviewed on 21st October 2023

by Anna Studsgarth

Photography by  Marc Brenner

 

 

 

 

Links to more of our recent reviews:

 

Gentlemen | ★★★★ | Arcola Theatre | October 2023
The Changeling | ★★★½ | Southwark Playhouse Borough | October 2023
An Evening Of Burlesque | ★★★★ | Adelphi Theatre | October 2023
The Ocean At The End Of The Lane | ★★★★★ | Noël Coward Theatre | October 2023
The Least We Could Do | ★★★★★ | Hope Theatre | October 2023
The Alchemist | ★★★★ | Mathematical Institute | October 2023
Shakespeare’s R&J | ★★★★ | Reading Rep Theatre | October 2023

The Flea

The Flea

Click here to read all our latest reviews

 

Lava

★★★★

Bush Theatre

Lava

Bush Theatre

Reviewed – 15th July 2021

★★★★

 

“an important story, and judging by the racially charged goings-on of last week, couldn’t be timelier”

 

I know what the embodiment of true joy and self-assuredness looks like: It looks like Ronkẹ Adékoluẹjo in a sunshine yellow jumpsuit dancing hard all over a lava-encrusted multi-level set to a double-time remix of Aretha’s ‘Think’; dancing so hard she leaves the audience to three rounds of applause whilst she gets her breath back. And thus, we are introduced to “Her”.

“Her”- as Her Majesty’s Passport office keeps referring to her- is trying to renew her British passport with no luck. A dual citizen, her first name is missing from her South African passport, and she needs to fix this before they’ll renew her British one. But why is her name missing in the first place? This mystery sparks the beginning of a journey back, bridging decades and continents, beginning in a colonised Congo, and ending in modern day London, all in search of a sense of belonging. Though Adékoluẹjo begins with a joyous dance, the story itself is one of struggle and fury.

Though later in the story the name of “Her” is confirmed as writer Benedict Lombe, Lombe having employed an actor to play the role might easily have given the performance a fictional detachment. But Adékoluẹjo undertakes the story as though it were her own, with so much love and care that the separation between writer and performer is invisible to the audience’s eye. Slipping between prose and colloquialism, both the script and Adékoluẹjo are completely charming.

The premise is strong and compelling: The reason behind her missing first name is fascinating and perfectly symbolic of the messy nuances of identity and history. But there’s a disconnect between the resolution of this first dilemma and the rest of the story, which is still rich in character and content but without a central element to keep it on track. The ending too feels messy, as though Lombe couldn’t quite decide how to finish, so she picked all the options.

This is really all much of a muchness though because it hardly dampens the effects of Lombe’s passionate and remonstrative script and Adékoluẹjo’s effervescent performance. This is an important story, and judging by the racially charged goings-on of last week, couldn’t be timelier.

 

 

Reviewed by Miriam Sallon

Photography by Helen Murray

 


Lava

Bush Theatre until 7th August

 

Recently reviewed by Miriam:
Tarantula | ★★★★ | Online | April 2021
Reunion | ★★★★★ | Sadler’s Wells Theatre | May 2021
My Son’s A Queer But What Can You Do | ★★★½ | The Turbine Theatre | June 2021
The Narcissist | ★★★ | Arcola Theatre | July 2021

 

Click here to see our most recent reviews