Tag Archives: Madelaine Moore

THE ICE AT THE END OF THE WORLD

★★★★

Omnibus Theatre

THE ICE AT THE END OF THE WORLD at the Omnibus Theatre

★★★★

“Madelaine Moore’s direction is assured, moving with suave authority”

The Ice at the End of the World is chilling in the best way possible. Seldom in the theatre have I needed to squeeze someone’s hand quite so frequently. The lady next to me was very understanding. Luckily, I’d brought her with me. For seventy five minutes, we are aboard a tall ship, and taken on its eerie and highly unsettling excursion into the Arctic Circle.

We follow a small group of artists, who have been selected to undertake this really quite dangerous and not-just-for-giggles journey for the sake of their art. Their inspiration is ‘life at the end of the world’ (although this detail is not entirely clear). But the further north they go, the more disturbed things become. By the end of the piece, it is assuredly a cosmic horror, which harnesses both alien terror and a mythological morality tale concerning climate change and the arrogance of the human race.

The first thing that should be complimented is the superb plethora of non-verbal material here. Lighting (Megan Lucas) and Sound Design (Russell Ditchfield) work in compelling symbiosis. The axiom of this show is ‘we do not take the journey; the journey takes us.’ Thus, the actors weave between dialogue and protean physical theatre, cultivating the eerie unreality of life aboard a ship – maddeningly claustrophobic within the vast entrapment of the sea. Silhouettes, voiceovers, dance, and more, meld seamlessly, conjuring the other-worldly enchantments of the journey north.

Madelaine Moore’s direction is assured, moving with suave authority, and allowing its non-dialogic elements to taunt and threaten. They express the ineffable and erotic temptations of nature, especially as the ice melts, revealing the untamed potential of the uncivilised Earth, which demands something in return for the damage we have unthinkingly wreaked upon her.

The cast is brilliant as the four-person crew of eccentrics. Laura (Judith Amsenga), who functions as Nature’s tour guide of the Arctic Circle, is commanding and unhinged in terrifyingly equal measure. Eleanor Dillon-Reams is captivating as Alys, the sort-of protagonist, and a translator of Finnish poetry – of course, she is herself, a former, failed poet. Katy Schutte (who is also the writer, deserving of its own commendation) and Gian Carlo Ferrini are also excellent, and their characters complement the piece throughout.

This piece of theatre – I’m loath to call it but a play – is, at its core, a theatrical argument between Mother Nature and the human race: It is a battle of ego. Alongside, there is a recurring conceit devolving the nature and origin of genius. Here, genius manifests as an attendant demon that threatens to possess its human vessel completely. This idea looms throughout, posing some wonderful philosophical knots for the journey home.

A word used in the piece is ‘unsettling’: it is the perfect word with which to consider this play. We are unsettled constantly: by the movement of the ship, and by the evasive and disturbing chain of events.

If I had any criticisms, it would be that a discussion of queerness feels a little shoehorned in and lacking in sufficient development. I’d also say that some of the more abstract physical theatre was perhaps introduced too early to deliver its full effect. But I am nit-picking.

The Ice at the End of the World is endlessly resourceful. Its lens is panpsychist, probing the boundaries of consciousness and power, and flirting with the liminal spaces between Human and Nature, and where Art disrupts these fabrics. It is also a warning: a warning that the planet will avenge its destruction at the hands of human beings; a warning that the permanence of the Earth will forever haunt the exploits of mere mortals, no matter what their contributions. There’s also some really cool stuff with ice bears. I could not recommend this show enough.


THE ICE AT THE END OF THE WORLD at the Omnibus Theatre

Reviewed on 27th September 2024

by Violet Howson

Photography by Sadhbh McLoughlin

 

 


 

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

MY LIFE AS A COWBOY | ★★★ | August 2024
HASBIAN | ★★★★ | June 2024
COMPOSITOR E | ★★★ | September 2023

THE ICE AT THE END OF THE WORLD

THE ICE AT THE END OF THE WORLD

Click here to see our Recommended Shows page

 

Evelyn

Evelyn

★★★

Southwark Playhouse

Evelyn

Evelyn

Southwark Playhouse

Reviewed – 28th June 2022

★★★

 

“There are lovely moments of humour, juxtaposed with the darkness of Michael Crean’s evocative sound”

 

It’s quite apt that Tom Ratcliffe’s play “Evelyn” opens with a semi-grotesque, semi-comic re-enactment of a ‘Punch and Judy’ show. Set in a seaside town overlooking the North Sea, the action is constructed to provoke a mixture of outrage and guilty pleasure. We used to laugh at the puppet show, but modern sensibilities have forced it out of fashion. After all, when stripped down, who is Punch but a misogynistic old womaniser, who likes a drink, and who displays unashamed homicidal tendencies? Within fifteen minutes of a typical show the corpses mount up; including his child, his wife and a policeman thrown in for good measure.

Popular consensus has all but killed off the four-hundred-year-old tradition. But what Ratcliffe’s drama (based on actual events) points out is that the storyline is often repeated in real life. And in that real life, ‘popular consensus’ so easily becomes mob rule.

The surreal, albeit a touch confusing, quality generated by the Punch and Judy characters that pop up throughout the show, reveals the back story. Ten years earlier, Evelyn Mills witnessed her husband murder their child. She covered up for him, lied in court and presumably let him get off scot-free while she did time. We never really learn the fate of the murderous and abusive husband, but bizarrely it is Evelyn who is vilified. The villagers are furious that she was allowed to change her identity and be let back into society.

Meanwhile, in the present action, Sandra (Nicola Harrison) arrives in town just as the community concur that Evelyn is back in town. Fingers point at her. Understandably so, she’s an odd ball, claiming she’s from Reading, Ryde, Rochdale; whatever takes her fancy. Thinking she is going to be renting a private apartment she finds herself flat-sharing in a retirement village with dotty Jeanne (Rula Lenska). Sandra is emphatic she needs to be on her own but rapidly hooks up with local electrician Kevin (Offue Okegbe). Kevin’s sister, Laura (Yvette Boakye) bristles at the tryst.

There are bonds that unite the female characters together, focusing on concepts of motherhood and loss, but the performances fail to gel in the same cohesive way. Lenska is watchable, reminiscent of Joanna Lumley’s Patsy, but is carted off before her true relevance is realised. While there are hints of passive aggressiveness towards Harrison’s subtly portrayed Sandra, Boakye’s Laura is just aggressive. She represents the mob, while Okegbe’s Kevin gives Sandra the benefit of the doubt. Is love blind? Or is it everybody else, who cannot see beyond the hive mentality?

The question is never fully resolved. But we never fully engage in the outcome either. The performances lack the rich conviction needed to hit the target that Ratcliffe’s writing is aiming for, exploring some urgent and relevant topics while questioning society’s perception of justice, vigilantism, social media and collective coercion. There are lovely moments of humour, juxtaposed with the darkness of Michael Crean’s evocative sound (performed live by Crean), but the shift of styles distracts. The kitchen sink realism sits uncomfortably beside the ‘Commedia dell’arte’ exaggeration. The intention is crystal clear, but is muddied by its execution.

 

Reviewed by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Greg Goodale

 


Evelyn

Southwark Playhouse until 16th July

 

Recently reviewed at this venue:
You Are Here | ★★★★ | May 2021
Staircase | ★★★ | June 2021
Operation Mincemeat | ★★★★★ | August 2021
Yellowfin | ★★★★ | October 2021
Indecent Proposal | ★★ | November 2021
The Woods | ★★★ | March 2022
Anyone Can Whistle | ★★★★ | April 2022
I Know I Know I Know | ★★★★ | April 2022
The Lion | ★★★ | May 2022

 

Click here to see our most recent reviews