Tag Archives: Lucy Hayes

BITTER LEMONS

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Park Theatre

BITTER LEMONS at Park Theatre

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“The imagery is striking evoked and passionately told”

Bitter Lemons follows two women’s intertwining narratives as they ready themselves for a vital moment in their careers, and a big personal decision.

After a successful run at Edinburgh Festival Fringe 2023, the show has revived the same team for a London run. It bills itself as an issue play, centring around one moment in these women’s lives, but in many ways that detracts from the message of the piece.

We follow two women – Angelina (Shannon Hayes) and AJ (Chanel Waddock). AJ is a professional goalie and the β€˜tart of the team’. Meanwhile Angelina is firmly implanted in the corporate world, having to prove to colleagues, clients and her own boyfriend that she is more than a diversity hire. The stories are superficially different, but connect and intersect throughout.

Writer and director Lucy Hayes’ script blends theatre and prose poetry. The imagery is striking evoked and passionately told. It is at its best when it weaves between the stories, allowing the characters to fly in quick fire entangled prose. But it also has a distancing effect, at times keeping the audience at arm’s length.

The script and performance is at the core of this piece, but Hayes’ direction allows these two aspects centre stage. Some muddied physical theatre does little to add to the atmosphere, but the staging is thoughtful, especially given the parallel narratives.

Chanel Waddock has a powerful physicality, blending comedy and poignancy while retaining a grounded stage presence. Shannon Hayes has excellent comic timing and a strong connection with the audience.

Hattie North’s sound design is throbbingly atmospheric. Creating both internal and external worlds through sound she gives the piece an urgent and purposeful pulse.

The set (Roisin Martindale) which has changed slightly from the Finge, is baffling until the final scene. For me, it wasn’t worth it for the reveal, but with a plastic backdrop curtain, blue Lino flooring and mirrored blocks it has a simple but clean feeling.

The show is quite busy. A lot of ideas are thrown around, and the women’s lives feel at times used to tick boxes of on trend messaging. There are some powerful moments but a lot of the ideas and commentary feels a little familiar. Splitting the narrative makes both stories feel a little undercooked and simplistic, with the characters feeling less well developed than they otherwise could have.

 


BITTER LEMONS at Park Theatre

Reviewed on 30th August 2024

by Auriol Reddaway

Photography by Alex Brenner

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

WHEN IT HAPPENS TO YOU | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | August 2024
THE MARILYN CONSPIRACY | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | June 2024
IVO GRAHAM: CAROUSEL | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | June 2024
A SINGLE MAN | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | May 2024
SUN BEAR | β˜…β˜…β˜… | April 2024
HIDE AND SEEK | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | March 2024
COWBOYS AND LESBIANS | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | February 2024
HIR | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | February 2024
LEAVES OF GLASS | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | January 2024
KIM’S CONVENIENCE | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | January 2024

BITTER LEMONS

BITTER LEMONS

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Smoke

Smoke

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Southwark Playhouse Borough

SMOKE at Southwark Playhouse Borough

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Smoke

“The physical reality of the production doesn’t match the stinging quality of the words.”

 

The publicity copy, and writer Kim Davies’ programme notes, make much of β€œSmoke” being an adaptation of August Strindberg’s β€˜Miss Julie’. There are similarities. The characters’ names – and, more tenuously, their background. Julie (Meaghan Martin) is the daughter of a successful artist, never seen but the constant references to him serve as a reminder of his power. And there’s John (Oli Higginson); a dogsbody at the artist’s beck and call with an obsequious ambition to achieve the latter’s recognition. We are in a kitchen too, albeit a symbolic one.

Yet β€œSmoke” impresses as a stand-alone piece in its own right. The shackles that bind it to Strindberg’s original both detract and confuse. The setting and the themes of Davies’ writing – writing which is undeniably sharp – are smudged by expectation and the inevitable but thwarted search for comparison.

Sami Fendall’s design suggests the kitchen with an upturned fridge in a pit of black sand. Polina Kalinina and JΓΊlia Levai’s staging makes much use of the sand, stretching its symbolism to breaking point. It is continually being sifted through the hands. It is the eponymous smoke, it is cigarette ash, it is the blunt edge of a knife that will never cut as deep as words. It is foreplay, and afterplay. It becomes limited by its own variations, and therefore a clichΓ©. But back to the kitchen, which is where we find Julie and John. Always in the kitchen at parties, this party being a BDSM party in New York City. John is introducing Julie to the world of bondage, dominance, submission and sadomasochism. It evolves into a game that is not just cutthroat but involves other parts of the anatomy. Verbally graphic, it delves into the subjects of sexual identity, consent and assault.

The performances are as strong as they get. Higginson has a steely charisma that allows him to give his character the credibility it needs, overcoming his status with confidant dominance. Martin’s Julie is no less fierce – her submissiveness snapping intermittently to outrage. Rajiv Pattani’s staccato lighting cleverly shifts the changes of perspective at crucial moments. The play sets out to challenge the notions of consent and, in the wake of #metoo, is pertinent. Some brave choices have been made but a paradoxical backlash of the changing times that are being celebrated is that the danger is presented in too safe an environment. An intimacy director is credited in the programme but, either because their job was done too well or because they were not really needed, there is little onstage chemistry – dangerous or otherwise – between the two. The physical reality of the production doesn’t match the stinging quality of the words.

Perhaps it is a deliberate avoidance to take sides, but we are never quite sure what the piece is trying to say. Julie’s question β€œDo you want to fuck me?” goes some way towards epitomising the predicament. She is offended if the answer is β€˜yes’ and offended if it is β€˜no’. John is damned whatever his answer. As the play progresses the dilemmas darken considerably, yet the confusion remains. Perhaps there are no answers. Perhaps there is still much to be learnt. The BDSM setting seems to be a convenient backdrop to Davies’ drama, just as Strindberg is a starting point. But both seem superfluous. β€œSmoke” tackles important issues without breaking any real ground, allowing a certain pretentiousness to get in the way. Despite the heated and powerful performances, it shows that sometimes there is smoke without fire.

 

 

Reviewed on 3rd February 2023

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Lucy Hayes

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

 

The Woods | β˜…β˜…β˜… | March 2022
Anyone Can Whistle | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | April 2022
I Know I Know I Know | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | April 2022
The Lion | β˜…β˜…β˜… | May 2022
Evelyn | β˜…β˜…β˜… | June 2022
Tasting Notes | β˜…β˜… | July 2022
Doctor Faustus | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | September 2022
The Prince | β˜…β˜…β˜… | September 2022
Who’s Holiday! | β˜…β˜…β˜… | December 2022
Hamlet | β˜…β˜…β˜… | January 2023

 

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