“perhaps unsurprisingly, not for the purists, but a joy for everybody else”
Magnificent Bastard Productions’ Shakespeare adaptations have a very simple premise; the plays are performed straight, but one of the actors has spent a few hours before the show getting very, very drunk. For predictable reasons, namely not giving the actors a deft case of cirrhosis of the liver, Magnificent Bastard Productions rotate a large cast around various roles, providing different characters and actors with the opportunity to drink. On the evening of this review, Louise Lee was the drunkard du jour, playing Shylock’s daughter Jessica.
The humour (and therefore the meat) of this wilfully uproarious production comes from Lee’s inability or unwillingness to perform her role as intended, resulting in ridiculous and often abstract tangents to which the sober actors respond. In this sense, Shit-faced Shakespeare has much in common with traditional improvised shows, but with the madness sourced from just one highly unpredictable actor. Further cementing the improv feel of the show is the inclusion of a compere (Saul Marron) to introduce the rules of the show and provide occasional commentary/support on Lee’s antics.
And antics there certainly were. It’s hard to gauge where the drunkenness stopped and Lee’s blank cheque to cause a nuisance began, but the contrast of her stumbling (through half-remembered lines and also stumbling more generally) against a traditional cast of actors ‘doing Shakespeare properly’ is genuinely very funny, if occasionally fundamentally at odds with dramatic contents of a given scene. Where some of the best laughs, as always with improv, come from are the baffled attempts of performers to go along with whatever insanity has just been established; I occasionally felt as though one actor constantly being the butt of the joke, whether willingly or not, lent a slight sense of cruelty to the proceedings. It might have been nice to have the compere introduce Lee as the star of the show during the introduction – a more personal touch might have lessened the occasional, nagging feeling of being part of a baying mob.
I sometimes wonder with improvisation whether things would in reality play out differently the following night, but I had no such concerns here; this is a neat and effective take on improv, allowing for a genuinely unpredictable atmosphere, with control of the piece flitting between the compere, the sober actors, the drunken Lee as Jessica, and, in a delightful touch, even the audience.
Overall, this was a great Summer chortler that provides glorious improvisation madness under the guise of a classic Shakespeare play. Shit-faced Shakespeare is, perhaps unsurprisingly, not for the purists, but a joy for everybody else.
“This is one impressive play you will never forget”
We first meet Jane and Arthur, the two characters in this one act debut play from Matthew Seager, upon entering the theatre. They are seemingly a care free couple enjoying some time together in their living room. As the audience settles, there’s a dramatic change, Arthur suddenly slumps into his chair, his body twisted and his speech incoherent …
In Other Words follows the couple’s journey from ‘the incident’ of how they met to the tragic situation they now find themselves in. This is a story about dementia and unconditional love.
The duo playing the couple, Celeste Dodwell and Matthew Seager are both young actors. At times, without tuning in to fleeting references or referring to the programme, it’s not always clear what period of time has elapsed and indeed how old the characters are. This comes across as a deliberate ploy to make you think and to raise awareness that this cruel disease itself, takes little notice of age.
The scenes flit, via white noise, muffled words and flickering lights, between Arthur being his usual cheery self, and each of the progressive stages of his illness.
At times humorous, with Arthur’s early forgetfulness jokingly brushed aside as male stupidity, the laughs slowly become fewer. We are taken on Arthur’s tear jerking one way trip through doctor’s appointments, diagnosis and prognosis, to the hollow shell of a man he becomes.
“It feels like he is leaving me”, Jane says as she struggles to cope with Arthur’s increasingly challenging behaviour. Yet despite the extreme pressure she is under, only once do we see her snap, an action she instantly regrets. This is a man she still dearly loves even though to him, she is a stranger.
By the final scene, the only thing left that invokes any semblance of the old Arthur is the sound of hearing ‘their song’ Fly me to the Moon. That one enduring link to the moment they met, ‘now being all that is left from a lifetime of memories.
For such a moving piece, at times needing total quiet to portray the raw emotion from the actors, The Hope has a few issues. There was a lot of noise from downstairs and being on a main road, the occasional siren or hooting of horns interrupts the moment. Not a lot that can be done about this as it is a pub theatre in a busy location, but this was my one and only issue with the performance.
Both characters are truly believable, a credit to the actors involved, and director Paul Brotherton. Matthew Seager captures every subtle detail of Arthur’s spiralling decline to perfection. You’ll want to rush out and hug Jane, so convincing is Celeste Dodwell’s harrowing performance.
This is an incredibly well structured work. Seager’s research into the condition and his facilitation of sensory workshops in a dementia care home (which showed him how music can build links to reality), have enabled him to make this a terrifyingly accurate picture of an illness affecting so many.
Apple.
Labrador.
Grass.
This is one impressive play you will never forget.
