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BLUE BEARD

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Battersea Arts Centre

BLUE BEARD at the Battersea Arts Centre

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“A ricocheting trip through cabaret, musical, farce, drama, concert, pantomime, horror and fairground ride”

If you’re familiar with Emma Rice’s way of working, whether with Knee High or her current Wise Children company, you will know what to expect when you wander into one of her shows. And you won’t be disappointed with her take on Charles Perrault’s seventeenth century French folktale, β€˜Bluebeard’. Apart from slicing up the title into two separate words – ”Blue Beard” – she has also spliced the slim story line, weaving it into a chaotic parable of her own, and throwing in seemingly unconnected subplots and bizarre characters. The beauty of Rice’s productions, though, is how each unruly element of her anarchic approach eventually has a point. Why, for example, is the bellowing Mother Superior of her convent sporting an unconvincing fake, blue beard? Is it just a tacky pun on the title? You need to wait for the strikingly resonant finale to find your answer.

Although it sometimes seems to take a while to get there, it is well worth the journey. A ricocheting trip through cabaret, musical, farce, drama, concert, pantomime, horror and fairground ride. Sometimes it feels like they are making it up on the spot, but we know that they left the improvisation behind in the rehearsal room, and that this is a precise evocation of a dark world where magic and danger lie side by side.

Most of the first act steers clear of the original story, barely dipping its toes into Perrault’s tale. We are in the convent, inhabited by the sisters of the Three F’s (Fearful, Fucked and Furious). Katy Owen, as the Mother Superior, starts to tell a story of a widow (Treasure, played by a sultry Patrycja Kujawska) and her two daughters, Trouble (Stephanie Hockley) and Lucky (Robyn Sinclair). The two girls, coated in years of unconditional love and recently fatherless, are being pushed out into the world to find their way. They soon discover that their cosseted sense of freedom and security is juicy game in a predatory male world. Which is where we find the charismatically menacing Blue Beard (Tristan Sturrock), a claret-clad magician who promptly saws Lucky in half before putting her back together again as his wife. The sleight of hand, illusory dissection is a portent of the grim reality that Blue Beards previous wives are locked away, in bloodied pieces in a secret room of his mansion. It is probably worth pointing out here that a quick read of the original story is advisable before coming to the show.

 

 

When Lucky discovers the dead bodies of Blue Beard’s former wives, she is determined not to join their ranks. Cue her sister and mother (in the original it was her brothers, but as this is a modern tale of the power of sisterhood, it is important to get the gender right). Meanwhile, a lost boy (Adam Minsky) is wandering around searching for his older sister (Mirabelle Gremaud). A confusing subtext. At first. But when you grasp the significance, it is hauntingly chilling.

Throughout the show the music simmers underneath and bubbles to the surface in a series of gorgeous melodies. Rooted in folk, Stu Barker’s compositions slot neatly into the narrative and allow the cast to show off their vocal and musical skills; Gremaud who acrobatically switches instruments while lithely sliding into and out of the main action. Never less than stirring, the solos and harmonies float above the acoustic accompaniment of piano, harp, guitar and percussion. Luscious moments juxtaposed against a brutal and bloody backdrop.

The climax is quite harrowing, delivered with undeniable passion, but perhaps spelt out in letters that are too bold. Yet there is no ignoring the urgent truth that it addresses – that of male coercive behaviour and violence towards women. When Katy Owen strips herself out of her Mother Superior habits, a heartrending reveal is discovered. Owen’s stark passion can take your breath away. We realise the fierce undercurrent of grief and loss that has been hidden beneath a haphazard musical drama that is full of laughs. A bewitching combination.

 


BLUE BEARD at the Battersea Arts Centre

Reviewed on 25th April 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Steve Tanner

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

SOLSTICE | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | December 2023
LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD | β˜…β˜…Β½ | December 2022
TANZ | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | November 2022
HOFESH SHECTER: CONTEMPORARY DANCE 2 | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | October 2022

BLUE BEARD

BLUE BEARD

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Sh!t Actually

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Camden People’s Theatre

Sh!t Actually

Sh!t Actually

Camden People’s Theatre

Reviewed – 5th December 2019

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“A bit mad, a bit radical, wholly enjoyable, Sh!t Actually is a welcome antidote to all of the sugary holiday fluff”

 

In 2003, Britain’s smash holiday hit Love Actually rocketed onto the list of the world’s favourite Christmas films, landing among big hitters such as The Muppet Christmas Carol, Home Alone, and How the Grinch Stole Christmas. As the most recent of these classic films, it’s surprising to watch how poorly the starry, treacle-sweet Love Actually has aged. In the last few years, the film has been called out repeatedly for the blatant sexism that defines almost every storyline: from Colin Firth’s character falling in love with his Portuguese maid who can’t talk to him, to Hugh Grant’s β€œchubby” but nevertheless sexy secretary, whose weight is a running gag. In the post-MeToo era, Love Actually has become problematic, if not downright cringe, viewing.

Sh!t Theatre, who’ve had recent success at Edinburgh and the Soho Theatre with their 2019 show Sh!t Theatre Drink Rum with Expats, are back this holiday season to roast the nation’s well-loved Christmas classic. If you’ve been to a Sh!t Theatre show before, you’ll know the pair of performance artists, Rebecca Biscuit and Louise Mothersole, combine a variety of theatrical elements in their distinct comedy style, including video, singing, dancing, silly costumes, and alcohol for the audience.

Biscuit and Mothersole are very funny in this scorching satire. In just fifty-five minutes, they recap the film, highlighting the creepy, the bad, and the worse in Love Actually’s love stories. How romantic is it, actually, when we discover the man who’s always rude to Keira Knightley’s character is secretly obsessed with her, and films her without her knowledge? Is it really romantic to chase a girl you’ve never spoken to through the airport? Although many of the points in the show, and even a fair few of the jokes, aren’t original – much of the content seems to draw quite heavily from a 2013 Jezebel article written by Lindy West – the framing of it as performance art is uniquely entertaining, and Biscuit and Mothersole add their own attacks.

From the number of β€˜true love’ stories involving two people who’ve never talked to each other, to the relentless roll-neck jumpers, no element of Love Actually is left unscathed. Biscuit and Mothersole make excellent use of video, playing clips from the film with alternate subtitles, alternate music, and interspersed with external clips: Alan Rickman as Snape makes a particularly hilarious appearance. One warning, however: there are several clips of graphic porn, which may make Sh!t Actually one of the least family-friendly Christmas shows in London this year.

There’s also brief nudity during Biscuit and Mothersole’s costume changes. The nudity, as well as the nude bodysuits the two wear, is an apt feminist statement. In opposition to Love Actually, which objectifies, fetishises, and ridicules its female bodies, Biscuit and Mothersole make a visual argument for body positivity. In the background, scenes from the film play, while in the foreground we see real women’s bodies, displayed deliberately and autonomously in dissent. Biscuit and Mothersole rebel against the toxic ideology on the screen using their bodies and voices – loud singing, dancing, and energetic physical comedy – to protest the misogynist fantasy of quiet, highly-sexualised women Love Actually exemplifies.

A bit mad, a bit radical, wholly enjoyable, Sh!t Actually is a welcome antidote to all of the sugary holiday fluff, and the insidious sexism seeping through β€˜heart-warming’ Christmas films. There should be no room in 2019 for a film that argues love means winning sexy women, with whom you’ve never had a real conversation, by grand β€˜romantic’ (predatory) gestures. Isn’t it time to acknowledge that Love Actually is shit, actually?

 

Reviewed by Addison Waite

Photography by Jen Smethurst

 


Sh!t Actually

Camden People’s Theatre until 21st December

 

Last ten shows reviewed at this venue:
Mojave | β˜…β˜…β˜… | April 2019
Human Jam | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | May 2019
Hot Flushes – The Musical | β˜…β˜…β˜… | June 2019
Form | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | August 2019
Muse | β˜…β˜… | August 2019
Ophelia Rewound | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | August 2019
The Indecent Musings Of Miss Doncaster 2007 | β˜…β˜…β˜…Β½ | August 2019
A Haunted Existence | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | October 2019
Trigger Warning | β˜…β˜…β˜… | October 2019
I, Incel | β˜…β˜…β˜… | November 2019

 

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