★★★★

“Wright’s writing and Patarkatsishvili’s staging pitch the message just right”

Orwell, Kafka and Beckett walk into a bar. Sounds like the premise for a joke, and indeed there is a perverse layer of humour that runs through Craig Wright’s “The Unseen”, but on the whole it is made up of pretty serious stuff. There are definite shades of the three writers’ influence, who could well have been swapping notes as they downed their drinks. The bar man is a young, interrupting Tarantino who fancies himself as a bit of a dramaturg while pulling pints. Frivolity and comparison aside, though, Wright’s heavy, harrowing, thought-provoking style comes with its own ambition, agenda and raw uniqueness.

We are plunged straight into the action. Even during the pre-show we are involuntary voyeurs, gazing upon Valdez (Waj Ali) and Wallace (Richard Harrington) in their solitary prison cells. Wallace is asleep while Valdez nervously looks around him, twitching at the sight of invisible ghosts. We see the whites of his eyes as they roll upwards in fear, dejection and confusion. Simon Kenny’s brutally realistic set encases both protagonists in their own worlds. Their own cells, and thoughts. Without making eye contact they communicate, passing the time playing memory games to keep madness at bay. They are grieving for their lost freedom, exacerbated by the fact that neither one (nor us) knows why they have been incarcerated.

Fear and paranoia continually wrestle with hope and optimism. The former invariably gaining the upper hand. A distinctly wordy play, both actors maintain an extraordinary command of the dialogue. Harrington’s Wallace is the more restrained and resigned elder captive. A slave to routine after eleven years, he is just about managing to keep control of his own mind. Waj Ali, as the younger Valdez, is a relative newcomer. Just three years into his stretch he is on rockier ground, conjuring up a hallucinatory woman in the next cell who has promised to help him escape. But both know their only escape from this world is death. Both actors exercise an extraordinary attention to detail that accentuates their personality traits; long buried under institutionalisation.

Into this world bursts Smash, the prison guard whose impossibly complex and damaged character is breathlessly brought to life by Ross Tomlinson. As much a prisoner as the two captives, he lashes out with murderous intent in a vain attempt to kill the oppressive empathy he feels. Both torturer and tortured, we can’t help but wonder how Tomlinson unwinds after each performance. It is a savage hour and a half, and undoubtedly polemic. Director Iya Patarkatsishvili describes it as “more than just a story; it is a call to action”. And for that reason, it deserves to be seen far beyond the smaller space of Riverside Studios. The macabre gallery we walk through on our way into the auditorium bears witness to the reality that is more disturbing than the fiction. The play’s anonymous setting is betrayed by the caged headshots of Russians who have taken a stand against Putin’s regime and found themselves imprisoned as a result.

Against this backdrop, Wright’s writing and Patarkatsishvili’s staging pitch the message just right. Short enough to hit us with a whiplash force, the grotesque humour pricks up our ears to the message that sinks in as insidiously as Orwell’s infamous ‘newspeak’. Not for the faint hearted, its own heart is ferociously strong. Mike Walker’s palpitating sound design sends literal alarm bells. This is happening every day. The finely nuanced and authentic performances are integral to our understanding of ‘The Unseen’ characters. They need to be seen, just as their factual counterparts do. “The Unseen”, in short, is a must see.

A CHRISTMAS CAROL at the Old Vic

★★★★★

“an evening of pure magic”

You could argue (and many people do) that the run up to Christmas gets earlier and earlier each year. No sooner have the pumpkins rotted and the fake cobwebs blown away from the city’s hedgerows, than the festive lights are switched on and Santa dominates the shop window displays. We utter ‘Humbug’ in disapproval and complain about rampant commercialism, while inwardly allowing the child in us a little bit of excitement. There is always a watershed, though, after which we can openly embrace the festive season without shame; and over the years one of them has become opening night of the Old Vic’s “A Christmas Carol”. It may still be November, but the annual event in Waterloo is now as traditional as mince pies. The spirit of Christmas is officially declared in our capital. And Old Marley is dead as a door nail.

Tradition rules in what is a faithful, but inspired, telling of Charles Dickens’ ‘ghostly little book’. Originally written in five staves it seems to be inviting a musical underscore, which Christopher Nightingale more than excels in providing. From the opening (and closing) handbell ringing through to the filmic strings and reeds, not to mention the chorale harmonies of the cast – dubbed ‘singing creatures’ by Scrooge. The ensemble cast also double up as a kind of chorus, in Victorian black and stove pipe hats, giving us stylised and choreographed snippets of Dickens’ evocative prose to link the staves of the story.

Central to the story, obviously, is old Ebenezer Scrooge. This year John Simm wears the cloak with an easy assurance. Not so much fearsome but more brooding. Beneath the initial rancour, one can glimpse a sensitivity that Simm brings that could almost excuse his forbidding nature; amplified by the flashbacks to his childhood at the hands of an abusive, debt-ridden father (an impressive Mark Goldthorp, who doubles as Marley’s ghost). Forgiveness and hope are essential strands in the narrative, and we understand how those hard done by, at Scrooge’s hand, manage to keep hold of this precarious quality. Juliette Crosbie’s Belle encapsulates this with a sharp and, at times, heart-rending portrayal of Scrooge’s lost love.

The three ghosts of ‘past’, ‘present’ and ‘yet-to-come’ are more mischievous than menacing in their matching patchwork cloaks. With the quality of a Shakespearian fool, they each lay open the painful truth Scrooge has spent a lifetime avoiding. In Jack Thorne’s imaginative adaptation, Scrooge’s little sister, Fan (Georgina Sadler) who died in childbirth, haunts him as the ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. An impassioned dialogue over Scrooge’s own coffin is a deeply moving moment. Our hearts break at other times, too. When Scrooge watches himself as a young boy he wistfully proclaims, “I don’t want him to become me”. A pause. “I want him to love”. Those simple four words are a pivotal point, the epiphanic moment that assures us he has reached the turning point. From then on, our own spirits are lifted to the roof; accompanied perfectly by the music that slowly swells from a plaintive a cappella solo voice to a sumptuous choir. Cut to black. A few seconds of pure and thick silence, and we are back in the present.

We are constantly and fully immersed in the story, whether sitting in the balcony, alongside the thrust of the playing space, or even on the stage itself. Director Matthew Warchus makes full use of the auditorium, resulting in a theatricality that cannot be faulted. Sparse yet evocative, we feel we are on the cobbled streets outside, with Rob Howell’s empty door frames made solid by Simon Baker’s ingenious sound design. Hugh Vanstone’s lighting is the icing on the cake (the brandy on the pudding) that adds the final magical flourishes. Simm’s transformation of character on Christmas morning is filled with a boyish ecstasy – a joy that we share watching this production. It is an evening of pure magic. Momentarily, the show slips out of character and flirts with pantomime – complete with chutes of sprouts and a low-flying turkey on a zip-wire. But the enchantment is swiftly restored. Joyous, evocative, atmospheric and spirited, “A Christmas Carol” is a tradition that has survived the past and will live long into the future. The Old Vic’s seasonal offering joins that tradition – and is the perfect Christmas present.

Tag Archives: Jonathan Evans

THE UNSEEN

★★★★

Riverside Studios

THE UNSEEN at the Riverside Studios

★★★★

“Wright’s writing and Patarkatsishvili’s staging pitch the message just right”

THE UNSEEN at the Riverside Studios

Reviewed on 25th November 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Manuel Harlan

Previously reviewed at this venue:

FRENCH TOAST | ★★★★ | October 2024

KIM’S CONVENIENCE | ★★★ | September 2024

THE WEYARD SISTERS | ★★ | August 2024

MADWOMEN OF THE WEST | ★★ | August 2024

MOFFIE | ★★★ | June 2024

KING LEAR | ★★★★ | May 2024

THIS IS MEMORIAL DEVICE | ★★★★ | April 2024

ARTIFICIALLY YOURS | ★★★ | April 2024

ALAN TURING – A MUSICAL BIOGRAPHY | ★★ | January 2024

ULSTER AMERICAN | ★★★★★ | December 2023

THE UNSEEN

THE UNSEEN

Click here to see our Recommended Shows page

A CHRISTMAS CAROL

★★★★★

Old Vic

A CHRISTMAS CAROL at the Old Vic

★★★★★

“an evening of pure magic”