“Cat Kolubayev has written an extremely funny piece that keeps you guessing”
VAULT Festival continues to throw up the most varied content.
Bin Juice starts off with two ladies who work for a hazardous removal company, interviewing for a new employee. But this waste collection unit does not pick up empty Domino’s boxes, their waste is a lot more sinister, with human bodies requiring disposal.
The Cavern theatre, with its brick walls, high ceiling and resident echo, cannot help but be eerie. Lighting (Holly Ellis) is well designed, as is the sound (Tingying Dong). The audience seating is arranged like opposing church pews facing off against each other, with the performance space in the middle. Director Anastasia Bruce-Jones does a tremendous job in moving the cast around this space for the benefit of all the audience. The set comprises of a couple of small tables and chairs with a black rubbish bag sitting centre stage.
Adeline Waby as Francine drives the action along and is strongest in the opening interview scene. I would like her to have slowed down her delivery ever so slightly, to avoid crucial words not being picked up. Madison Clare is her sidekick Marla, her facial expressions and comic timing were spot on. She was the highlight of the show for me and the story detailing her mother’s demise and explaining her crush on Captain Birdseye were a delight. Helena Antoniou as Barney/Belinda makes up the trio. She is a complex, multi-layoured character that you can’t quite make out. What exactly is her story and why does she wear a turtle neck in hot weather? A very interesting and solid performance.
Cat Kolubayev has written an extremely funny piece that keeps you guessing and you can’t help but be drawn in by the plot. Only in the second scene, did I feel that the pace dipped slightly.
I’m not the greatest fan of black comedy and I worried that this might be distasteful. Instead I found it rather charming and yet slightly unsettling at the same time.
Here we witnessed an example of excellent team work. Every single member of the crew and cast did their job with flair and precision timing, in a very slick production.
I’m off to buy some vegetables from a Lincolnshire farm, I hear they taste great.
“There’s a lot to like in the gentleness of Steiner’s script, but it’s a slow burn that’s really too slow”
In a time of political chaos, social turmoil, and environmental catastrophe, it’s easy to feel like the end of the world is right around the corner. It’s no surprise apocalypse stories feel particularly relevant right now.
Sam Steiner’s play, directed by James Grieve, is set in a future, disintegrating Britain. People are more-or-less keeping calm and carrying on despite toxic air, power outages, bridges collapsing, and buildings crumbling. The disaster is never specified – we don’t know whether this is the aftermath of WWIII, the effects of unchecked climate change, or both – but we do know trees are falling and the sea has turned viscous.
Four volunteers meet in a dilapidated call centre one night a week to run an emotional support helpline. Their job is to provide reassurance, although they’re barely holding it together themselves. On top of the world falling apart, Frances (Jenni Maitland) is heavily pregnant at a time when pregnancy is considered misguided or radically optimistic. Jon (Andy Rush) is going through a rough patch in his marriage. Angie (Lydia Larson) makes the best of her difficult upbringing. Joey (Andrew Finnigan), seventeen years old, is facing what feels like a pointless question of applying for university.
It may sound bleak, but Steiner handles the dark subject matter with a refreshingly light touch. While the apocalypse rages outside, the Brightline volunteers do their best to simply get on with the day. They hang up their gas masks when they arrive, attempt to make coffee without a working kettle, deal with perverts on the phones, and reluctantly participate in Frances’ positivity exercises.
The play is a series of small moments. Steiner gives us little window-like scenes through which we see the characters try to make connections with the people on the phones and each other, conversations hinting at personal lives and troubles beyond the office walls. There’s a lot to like in the gentleness of Steiner’s script, but it’s a slow burn that’s really too slow. Without much in the way of story, the two-hour runtime feels very long. Steiner’s scenes may be delicate and perceptive, but they lack momentum. And while the characters are strong, and well-performed by a talented cast, the show needs the backbone of a plot to help support its length.
Amy Jane Cook’s astute design presents the call centre as a little haven from the desolation outside, held together purely by blind optimism and denial. Everywhere signs of deterioration are refusing to be acknowledged. Gaping holes in the walls are covered up by motivational posters. Frances stubbornly tacks them back up each time they fall down. A whiteboard enthusiastically displays the word of the week (‘Communication’ ‘Optimism’). Intense storm winds blowing snow-like debris occasionally blast open the door. When the call centre floods, the stage fills with water. But when Frances fills the space with candles, the scene conveys a powerful sense of hope. The message of perseverance, resilience, and hope, no matter how irrational, will undoubtedly resonate with anyone feeling overwhelmed by the world today.
You Stupid Darkness! is a show full of heart and humour about the end of the world. A distinctive, insightful script with something to say – it’s a shame it’s missing a trick.
