Tag Archives: Jonathan Evans

MACHINAL

★★★★

Old Vic

MACHINAL at the Old Vic

★★★★

“a brave and exciting revival that mixes gritty absurdism with precision-cut stylisation and outstanding performances”

When Sophie Treadwell’s “Machinal” premiered in 1928, the New York Times was so intrigued that it reviewed the production twice – calling it ‘a triumph of individual distinction, gleaming with intangible beauty… an illuminating, measured drama such as we are not likely to see again’. The Times described it as a play that ‘in a hundred years… should still be vital and vivid’. Well – here we are, almost a hundred years later and – yes – it is still vital, vivid; and individual. Richard Jones’ revival at The Old Vic will ensure that Treadwell’s legacy will survive another century at the very least.

The play is inspired by (rather than based on) the real-life case of Ruth Snyder who was executed in the electric chair for the murder of her husband. Treadwell’s narrative gives us a fictionalised backstory in nine distinct episodes which describes the chain of events that leads an anonymous woman to her fate. We are shown the different phases of her life and the people she comes into contact with. Rosie Sheehy barely leaves the stage during her extraordinary portrayal of this ordinary woman. A woman who never finds her place. Never finds peace. Driven to eccentricity; disturbed and constrained, but essentially tender and pliable while the life around her is hard and mechanised.

It is a highly impersonal world in which the characters have no names. As a result, they don’t attract much sympathy and while we are drawn into their expressionist world, we are not invited to have any emotional involvement. It is the rhythm of the piece that keeps us going along for the ride. Jones’ direction is as stylish and stylised as the writing, although he is just one cog in the machine. Benjamin Grant’s discordant, staccato soundscape chimes with Adam Silverman’s lighting that both punctuate and underscore the narrative. Sarah Fahie is credited as movement director, but choreographer is a more apt description. Even Hyemi Shin’s mustard-tinged, claustrophobic set seems to have rehearsed its movements in time to the clockwork dialogue and the pulse of the play.

Repetition informs the action, adding to the sense of unease and entrapment our protagonist feels. She quits her humdrum job by marrying the boss – a misogynist who regards his wife as a business acquisition, yet Tim Francis brilliantly manages to find a very likeable eccentricity to an otherwise despicably outdated personality. Unfortunately, she can’t seem to just ‘quit’ her marriage, which eventually leads her to the extreme measures of murder, having bizarrely got the idea from a chance remark made by her lover (Pierro Niel-Mee). The feminist message is somewhat sabotaged along the way. And we never quite understand her detachment, nor indeed her disproportionate, sadistic treatment of her nagging, potato-obsessed mother (a wonderfully colourful and funny Buffy Davis).

Although a few of the scenes are drawn out, the pace never drags. We might not sympathise, but we enjoy the absurdity immensely. It is another world but uncomfortably like our own. Although we can see Kafkaesque influences, it is almost impossible to believe that “Machinal” was written a century ago; and we are also reminded of those that Treadwell has influenced in turn. This is a brave and exciting revival that mixes gritty absurdism with precision-cut stylisation and outstanding performances.

 

MACHINAL at the Old Vic

Reviewed on 18th April 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Manuel Harlan

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

JUST FOR ONE DAY | ★★★★ | February 2024
A CHRISTMAS CAROL | ★★★★★ | November 2023
PYGMALION | ★★★★ | September 2023

Machinal

Machinal

Click here to see our Recommended Shows page

 

STREET SONGS: A BUSKER’S TALE

★★★★

Golden Goose Theatre

STREET SONGS: A BUSKER’S TALE at the Golden Goose Theatre

★★★★

“a heart-warming show that gives many classic but over-played songs brilliant new meaning”

Buskers have been performing in public spaces since public spaces were invented. They are the backdrop to society. Too often taken for granted and now highly organised, most of the population pass them by – happy to snatch the fragment of music they hear to take home, without taking the time to appreciate the anonymous figures that colour their daily commute. “Street Songs – A Busker’s Tale” opens up that world in writer Brett Snelgrove’s and director Lawrence Carmichael’s bittersweet drama-comedy about two street musicians.

It is a canny collaboration that unites the gritty reminiscences of Carmichael’s busking days with the raw emotion of Snelgrove’s father’s battle with cancer. Two subject matters that seem far apart yet somehow work together seamlessly. Full of contrast, it is a simultaneously contemporary yet with the feel of a period piece. Ollie West is Jamie – the archetypal busker of three decades ago. His song list is even older than that – after all he is playing his late father’s (also a busker in his own time) set list. Songs for a rainy day, songs for summer; for the morning rush hour or for the lunch break. There is a description of how the timeless and alternative craft of busking has become homogenised on London’s Underground network since its legalisation; having to audition for a licence. West’s beautifully humorous and self-deprecating monologue illustrates the bizarre incongruity of ill-placed authoritative figures trying to layer control on an activity that is as old and free as the hills. Following his failed audition, Jamie is pushed out from the tunnels, and surfaces overground to where ‘The Streets Have No Name’.

Anonymously and largely ignored, he plies his trade. While he sings, behind him a girl sets up her improvised drum kit: a decaying collection of upturned bins, bottle crates, pans, bottles and saucepans. With brushes and sticks, Joy Wright – as bucket drummer Charlie – strikes the rhythm of the piece with understated timing, pounding away to get to our hero’s heart. But not without initial conflict as a turf war flares, then simmers down into philosophical debate. ‘Who are you here for?’ she asks. Because the public don’t care, and they can smell Jamie’s diffidence with feral savagery. ‘If you’re not here for them – they know it!’

The pair eventually form a double-act and are invited to play a corporate gig in an art gallery which chills them like fingernails on a chalkboard. So, it’s back to the streets; treading the same ground but now with a different perspective. Their relationship with the music has changed, and Snelgrove’s writing, and the actors’ performances, reach a new level of emotion. Charlie opens up with an honesty and authenticity that is candidly moving, while Jamie begins to accept that life doesn’t need to grind to a halt.

This isn’t just a busker’s tale. It is, at heart, a story about grief, a story about learning to drift from solo to duo. Carmichael’s stripped back staging is quite ramshackle, but it mirrors the bric-a-brac that these misfits stash away in their minds. Wright is utterly convincing as Charlie; streetwise and abrasively rough around the edges, yet one whose combative shell conceals a vulnerable and generous heart. West, as Jamie, masterfully navigates the helter-skelter of emotions spinning from Snelgrove’s text. The singing may not be top notch, but it reflects the tone of the piece perfectly. And the poignancy frequently gives way to moments of humour. A German rendition of ‘Mad World’ is hilarious, while ‘Sound of Silence’ thunders along in a punk/rockabilly mash-up. The comedy and the pathos form a wonderful and extraordinary alliance, personified by Rag ‘n’ Bone Man’s ‘Human’ that forms a leitmotif, winkingly reminding us of our failings.

Evocative and personal, this busker’s tale winds its way from the underground to the streets, up to the gallery – and into a world that doesn’t care. Written with integrity and respect for its subject matter and characters we, however, cannot fail to care. That it is based on, and dedicated to, Snelgrove’s own father adds candour. Damien Rice’s ‘Older Chest’ is sung by West with a sadness that belies his acknowledgement that grief can be controlled after all. The character’s memories are still the same, but they now take on a different flavour – like reinterpreting a song. As we reach the finale, Jamie turns to James Blunt’s ‘Monsters’ – a love song to a dying father. ‘It’s my turn to chase the monsters away’. We may be listening to Blunt’s lyrics, but it is West’s natural and unsentimental portrayal that gives the words their real depth. “Street Songs – A Busker’s Tale” is a heart-warming show that gives many classic but over-played songs brilliant new meaning


STREET SONGS: A BUSKER’S TALE at the Golden Goose Theatre

Reviewed on 17th April 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Larissa Pinkham

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

STRANGERS IN BETWEEN | ★★★★ | September 2023
WHAT I REALLY THINK OF MY HUSBAND | ★★★ | November 2023

STREET SONGS: A BUSKER’S TALE

STREET SONGS: A BUSKER’S TALE

Click here to see our Recommended Shows page