★★★★

“This is a very funny show indeed, complemented beautifully by Tim Gilvin’s pastiche score”

Everybody loves a villain. Which is why, in recent years, our favourite Disney miscreants have stepped forward to take centre stage in their stories, such as ‘Cruella’ from The One Hundred and One Dalmatians, or ‘Maleficent’ from Sleeping Beauty. They usually remain the villain, relishing the boos and hisses that feed them. But what if they want to convince you that, at heart, they weren’t the ‘bad guy’ after all. A large chunk of “Unfortunate: the Untold Story of Ursula the Sea Witch” allows Ursula to present her mitigating circumstances. She ain’t ‘bad’ really. But she is ‘badass’.

Shawna Hamic well and truly gets the jury on her side as the loveable ‘octogirl’, tearing up our preconceptions of the hag and throwing them overboard. She captains the ship, steering the show through the scandals, sex and subversive salaciousness of the story. It is a choppy sea, whipped up by hailstorms of catchy tunes, slapstick, jokes, innuendo and overblown, camp-as-Christmas performances. The production has come a long way from its Edinburgh Fringe origins, mooring up in Southwark before embarking on a nationwide tour in the New Year. Its growth in popularity seems unstoppable. Unfortunately, so does its growth in length, and somebody needs to step in to stem the swelling.

Having been treated to a potted backstory depicting Ursula and Triton growing up together, from squabbling schoolkids to teenage sweethearts, we dive into the crux of the tale. Following the unfortunate dissection of a sea cucumber named Kirsty, Ursula is framed and banished to the dark waters of the ocean. Flash forward twenty years and Triton, a single dad, is having a hard time with his youngest daughter, Ariel. Thomas Lowe, all glitter and beard, is a delightfully dumb king of the sea who fails to rein in his daughter’s sexual curiosities. Or rather, in Ariel’s own words, her desire to be ‘where the dicks are’ (one of the many earworm numbers). River Medway is the lewd and lascivious Ariel who falls for Jamie Mawson’s dumber than dumb Prince Eric. To get the man though, the woman must ‘lose her voice’ – so croons Ursula in one of the many satirical messages that pepper the production.

Among the high camp, excessive and heightened delivery, a standout performance is Allie Dart, as Sebastian the crab. Swapping the Jamaican accent for Irish, Dart pinpoints – and joins in – the joyful ridiculousness of it all. Doubling up as Colette the French chef, she delivers another of the musical highlights, ‘Les Poissons’, which showcases the intelligence of the text and lyrics that is often drowned in the waves of razzamatazz. But as a spectacle, “Unfortunate…” is an absolute triumph. Abby Clarke is the unseen star of the show, whose set, costume and puppetry are worth the ticket price alone.

There is nothing Disney about this show whatsoever, a fact that is wondrously celebrated in the number ‘We Didn’t Make it Disney’. The writers, Robyn Grant and Daniel Foxx, have no eye on the family audience at all. But they do have an eye for comedy. This is a very funny show indeed, complemented beautifully by Tim Gilvin’s pastiche score. Chaotic and camp, full of sex and sorcery, mayhem and madness, it is an oceanic treat. You can’t just dip your toe in, you need to dive headlong. The shock as it washes over you is exhilarating and invigorating. Go on, take the plunge. You’ll need stamina to weather the storm (yes – I’ve mentioned it already – it does overstretch itself) but it is worth it.

ULSTER AMERICAN at Riverside Studios

★★★★★

“A play about crossing the line within a play that frequently crosses the line”

David Ireland’s “Ulster American” touches on just about every topic that gets people’s blood boiling, and in the space of an hour and a half, inflates them in order to puncture them with the sharp skewer of satire that he has become famed for. Somewhere along the line during his career, Ireland has come to think that he wants to offend people. “As a writer, I want to be socially irresponsible” he once stated in an interview about his latest offering. “If you won’t produce it because of the reaction, that’s a very frightening place for us all to be in”. Fortunately for us, his play has been produced. It divided critics at its premiere in Edinburgh in 2018 and is now testing the waters in West London with Jeremy Herrin’s star-studded revival.

The premise is a joke. The old ‘Englishman, Irishman and American’ variety. But that is the only thing it has in common. From the outset, the humour is considerably darker, and the punchline is jet black. Set in real time, the evening before rehearsals start for a new play in London, it brings the three key players together in a night that spirals out of control. Jay Conway (Woody Harrelson) is the Oscar-winning actor taking the lead in the play that connects with his Irish roots. Leigh Carver (Andy Serkis) is the ambitious director who will do anything to get noticed. Ruth Davenport (Louisa Harland) is the Northern Irish playwright whose voice must be heard.

Ruth is late for the meeting, and so we are greeted by the two men killing time by indulging in some shocking banter. Harrelson’s self-aggrandising Hollywood star, Jay, is definitely the alpha male while Serkis, as Leigh, hovers between alpha and beta, unsure when to let his obsequiousness make way for his own voice. Both men are ‘feminists’, or so they say. Both men are deluded. But there is something far more dangerous going on than the mere misappropriation of language and self-appointed labels. And it takes Ruth not only to light the fuse, but also to detonate it. Many bombshells are dropped in the process, provoking the echoing thought in our minds; ‘did they really just say that?’

“You might not want to look at it, but you ought to go and see this play”

The three actors are simply outstanding in their roles. Serkis skilfully deploys the many faces of a politician as he fluctuates between squirming smiles and contradictions, until his real temperament is revealed when he realises the game is up. Harrelson hilariously cuts a ridiculous figure, wielding male self-righteousness like a loaded firearm, while Ruth catches the bullets in her teeth to spit them back. Harland’s character, despite the play attempting to establish a precarious female centric quality, is perhaps the least likeable of the three. Initially starstruck at meeting an idol in Jay, we don’t quite believe her rapid and absolute switch to the dominant, immutable, writer-diva with the authority to dictate that not one word of her script can be altered. Come on, we’re dealing with an Oscar winning actor here!

Among the topics that are ripped apart are national and personal identity, religion, loyalty, power, misogyny, feminism, gender, responsibility, Brexit, politics, territory, the ‘N’ word, #MeToo, culture, censorship, social media, rape, blackmail… you name it. But the focus is drawn back to the power balance between men and women. Words the two men carelessly let spill from their unfiltered mouths are later taken out of context and then used to make or break one another’s careers. Or lives. There is plenty of food for thought as the stakes get higher and higher, and these deplorable characters reach dizzying heights of ridicule. What is alarming, however, is the proximity to reality. The damage of misconstrued words is a genuine threat in our society.

“Ulster American” is a play within a play. A play about crossing the line within a play that frequently crosses the line. The satire occasionally adopts an over-daubed, ‘painting-by-numbers’ style. And the zeitgeist that Ireland vividly expresses gets somewhat washed away as the play dives headlong into farce, and the realms of cartoon barbarity. The violence is less shocking than the dialogue. Perhaps this is deliberate. Are words a more terrifying weapon than actions?

The three actors give thrilling performances that throw moral acceptances into the wind and let us pick up the pieces to try and make sense of them. It is insanely funny and deeply flawed. It will provoke discussion – even arguments, but hopefully not as extreme. You never know though. That is what is so vital about Ireland’s writing. Yes – it is heightened and unreal. But however warped, it is still a mirror to our fractured society. You might not want to look at it, but you ought to go and see this play.

UNFORTUNATE at Southwark Playhouse Elephant

★★★★

“This is a very funny show indeed, complemented beautifully by Tim Gilvin’s pastiche score”

UNFORTUNATE at Southwark Playhouse Elephant

Reviewed on 14th December 2023

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Pamela Raith

Previously reviewed at this venue:

Unfortunate

Unfortunate

ULSTER AMERICAN at Riverside Studios

★★★★★

“A play about crossing the line within a play that frequently crosses the line”

“You might not want to look at it, but you ought to go and see this play”