Lidia Crisafulli Archives - Page 11 of 15

★★★★

“tackles its theme with skilful insight and a refreshing amount of nuance”

In an age of uncertainty, the only thing we can be sure of is ourselves. Maybe it’s youthful arrogance, but college freshmen Tom and Amber seem very sure of themselves. His passion is music; her path is writing. He knows that she likes him; she is mildly obsessed with him. She’s sure that he raped her; he’s sure that he didn’t.

Actually is a story that is rich with ideas that are explored efficiently and empathetically. Anna Ziegler uses her ninety minutes wisely, examining her themes and protagonists with equal focus. Ziegler gives us a rich sense of who her characters are, providing details and anecdotes that prevent them from becoming archetypes of perpetrator and victim. Amber Cohen is Jewish, a college professor’s daughter and naïve idealist who battles to keep her rampant insecurity at bay. Tom Anthony was the only African-American student at his high school. He is somewhat cocky and something of a ladies’ man, but is nonetheless a loner who is uncomfortable in his own skin.

It is through these two contrasting yet strangely connected characters that Ziegler seeks to complicate the issue of sexual assault. Is Amber reporting this because she feels genuinely violated, or because her friends told her to? Is she really questioning her privilege, or devaluing her feelings? Can Tom’s personal struggles be considered a valid explanation for his behaviour? But, then again, what did he actually do? Yasmin Paige and Simon Manyonda ensure that we can sympathise with Amber and Tom even at their worst moments. Both portray a sense of vulnerability that makes the audience realise how out of their depth they truly are. Both are highly engaging and excel in high stakes moments, but sometimes struggle to nail Ziegler’s sly injections of humour.

As a production, it is sleek and simple. Appropriately, the stage is a grey area; the back wall is cracked open slightly, reemphasising the invasive nature of the hearing they have to face. A clever piece of design right at the last second ends the show on a satisfying note, adding poignancy to an already emotionally wrought piece.

Actually tackles its theme with skilful insight and a refreshing amount of nuance. Its resolution – or, rather, its lack of resolution – makes the show feel complete: not as a piece of storytelling, but as a realistic depiction of sexual assault cases, their complexities, and the ongoing struggle to understand the experiences, not only of others, but of ourselves.

Reviewed by Harriet Corke

Photography by Lidia Crisafulli

The Censor

Hope Theatre

Reviewed – 27th June 2019

★★

“As much as round RoundPeg tries to revitalise this unsettling play, it feels heavy handed and melodramatic”

Art or porn? That is the question. Anthony Neilson’s controversial play The Censor, makes a London comeback to explore all things taboo. Female-driven RoundPeg Theatre, responsible for its return, try taking a feminist stance on the work’s gender power play. Yet it’s difficult to tell if the fault lies with the writing, the performances or direction in not fully achieving the desired affect, making this production quite unbearable at times to watch (and that’s not the extremely close-up explicit content).

A female film director finds herself in the office of a censor, a man whose decision determines whether her work will be given the green light for release. Due to the film’s highly pornographic nature, the censor point blank writes it off as a no go, but can Miss Fontaine convince him to see beyond the images and at its artistic dissection of humanity instead? As she tries to educate him past the black and white and into the grey areas, more unravels about the censor’s personal life and the repressed feelings he’s held back.

The two female roles, Miss Fontaine and the censor’s wife, in particular, feel very one dimensional. As mentioned previously, it’s difficult to tell whether it’s the writing or the performances that don’t quite work. I feel it’s a little of both. Chandrika Chevli as The Wife is far too underused and whose brief moments on stage with Jonathan McGarrity seem fruitless. It would be more interesting to see their relationship developed further. Suzy Whitefield’s turn as the allusive Miss Fontaine can often come across forced whilst McGarrity as the censor lacks a sense of authority to initially clash and then be overruled by Miss Fontaine’s dominance.

The twenty-two year old play does feel aged in certain ways. Due to the growth of explicit images surrounding us and being easily accessible, the ‘scenes of a sexual nature’ in The Censor seem to have lost their potency. Undeniably there is still a certain frisson in having such acts simulated live, particularly the infamous defecation scene, but overall our desensitisation to the like, has made it far less shocking than back in 1997 when first staged.

The projection screens to the corners of the space, showing the erotic, semi-graphic scenes from ‘the film’ could have been used with far more powerful intention. It does help to set the dark, ambiguous atmosphere but ends up feeling monotonous and ineffectual as generally the same brief clip repeats for denoting transitions or sexual acts on stage.

As much as round RoundPeg tries to revitalise this unsettling play, it feels heavy handed and melodramatic. Although there are certainly problems with the writing itself, such as questionable character actions or improbable situations that occur, the more interesting questions that Neilson does raise feels undeveloped and not presented clearly enough by the company.

Trafalgar Studios

Reviewed – 12th August 2019

★★★★

“tackles its theme with skilful insight and a refreshing amount of nuance”

Reviewed by Harriet Corke

Photography by Lidia Crisafulli

Actually

Trafalgar Studios until 31st August

Last ten shows reviewed at this venue:

Hope Theatre

Reviewed – 27th June 2019

★★

“As much as round RoundPeg tries to revitalise this unsettling play, it feels heavy handed and melodramatic”

Reviewed by Phoebe Cole

Photography by Lidia Crisafulli

The Censor

Hope Theatre until 13th July

Previously reviewed at this venue: