Tag Archives: Max Harrison

Tender Napalm

Tender Napalm

★★★★★

King’s Head Theatre

 Tender Napalm

Tender Napalm

King’s Head Theatre

Reviewed – 28th October 2021

★★★★★

 

“it somehow speaks of the horror and confusion of trauma, unflinching love in the face of howling pain, and above all, it’s incredibly playful and funny and sweet”

 

Having read his books as a kid and studied his plays in college, seeing a Philip Ridley play at a pub theatre in Angel seems absolutely mad to me. Like having Michelle Roux working at your local caf, or Radiohead doing a gig in your neighbour’s basement. That said, the Kings Head is no ordinary pub theatre, and Philip Ridley no ordinary playwright.

And, stubbornly transgressive as he is, it seems entirely apt that in Ridley’s latest production, at moments of palpable, almost violent silence, you can hear a faint R n’ B playlist, glasses clinking and raised voices trickling in from the bar behind.

The design (Kit Hinchcliffe) is tantalisingly bare: a shiny white floor and plain white backdrop, along with costumes of white tops and grey trousers. No furniture or small props or even a button on a cardi to fiddle with. Just two characters, Man and Woman, and their rich, almost impenetrable fantasy existence.

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I feel myself putting off talking about the actual play itself because I don’t really know how to describe it. At once a game of ‘Fantasy Yes’- we’ve been shipwrecked, says man. Yes, with only hundreds of monkeys for company, says woman. Yes, except that time a giant serpent came and ate me whole and I stabbed it to death from the insides, says man. Yes, says woman, that was my great, great aunt, and I too have serpent blood in me. Yes, well, says man, I’ve led aliens into battle against their enemies, and so the monkeys think I am the messiah. And so on. This, spliced with intensely sexual but equally opaque talk of lubricated grenades and castrating garden sheers, and a surprisingly normal story about an eighteenth birthday party, makes up this seventy-minute straight-through. Despite this sounding unbearably inaccessible, through its opacity, it somehow speaks of the horror and confusion of trauma, unflinching love in the face of howling pain, and above all, it’s incredibly playful and funny and sweet.

In his programme notes, director Max Marrion talks about how skilled our two principals, Adeline Waby and Jaz Hutchins, are at dealing with Ridley’s particular flavour of language, story and imagery. This is mildly put considering their ability to express both humour and passion in this otherwise abstruse text. They embody both the poetic and the realistic; unafraid to be ridiculous, fighting with invisible swords, jumping from one invisible rock to the next, giving each other explosive orgasms with grenades. Equally, they’re two awkward teenagers getting ready for a party, nervously flirting and dancing like idiots. Their chemistry is complicated; it feels full of experience and genuine intimacy.

Ben Lerner once said of John Ashbery’s poetry that while reading, “they always felt as if they were making sense, but when you looked up from the page, it was impossible to say what sense has been made.” I’d say the same of Tender Napalm. There’s no way for me to convey its message, except to tell you to see it and try to explain it yourself.

 

Reviewed by Miriam Sallon

Photography by Mark Senior

 


Tender Napalm

King’s Head Theatre until 20th November

 

Other shows reviewed this year by Miriam:
Aaron And Julia | ★★½ | The Space | September 2021
Tarantula | ★★★★ | Online | April 2021
My Son’s A Queer But What Can You Do | ★★★½ | The Turbine Theatre | June 2021
Lava | ★★★★ | Bush Theatre | July 2021
Reunion | ★★★★★ | Sadler’s Wells Theatre | May 2021
The Narcissist | ★★★ | Arcola Theatre | July 2021
White Witch | ★★ | Bloomsbury Theatre | September 2021

 

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Reformation
★★★

White Bear Theatre

Reformation

Reformation

White Bear Theatre

Reviewed – 27th June 2019

★★★

 

“a play with bold intentions, but let down by a certain tone and execution”

 

James Martin Charlton’s new play ‘Reformation’ certainly would not make it before the watershed. This shocking and often disturbing play tackles the topics of predatory sex, religion and control. It is set in Berlin in 1529 at the peak of the tensions during the Reformation.

Some of the more aristocratic characters are rooted in real life figures, such as Protestant artist Lucas Cranach and the Elector of Brandenburg. However, Martin Charlton describes his work as ‘a speculation’ or ‘dream’ of fictional interactions between historical characters and more lowly, invented ones.

The story has several interweaving strands, linked by smooth lighting changes between scenes. Its story centres around a budding romance between peasant girl ‘Ava’, and the son of famous painter Lucas Cranach. Alongside this, we see the morally corrupt Elector, who is advised by the Bishop to commission a painting by Cranach showing the evil possibilities of sexual promiscuity. Cranach offers Ava the opportunity to model for his new artwork, entitled ‘The Rape of Lucrece’. When the Elector falls in love with the girl in the image, we see Cranach’s loyalties conflicted as he must choose whether to sell his son’s peasant lover.

Martin Charlton attempts to show the underbelly of Reformation society unfortunately fall flat. Ava (Alice De- Warrenne) is infantilised and manipulated by the men around her. It is uncomfortable to watch much older actor’s view her naked and consistently touch her throughout the performance. Jason Wing’s performance as Cranach is somewhat one dimensional – flitting between emotionally flat and uncontrolled shouting. The explicit sexual content is a distraction, from what might otherwise be a very interesting look into the lives of those not usually seen. In the wake of the #MeToo movement, the consistently misogynist rhetoric and lack of a strong female lead, felt exploitative.

Director Janice Dunn takes cues from the script and sets the play in an ambiguous time frame. The costumes range from hoodies and leather jackets to waistcoats and robes to create a sense that this is certainly not 1529. Additionally, a range of music from different time periods is used between scene transitions. This is done to make the story appear relevant to the modern audience. However, it makes the dated ideals shown even more at odds with today’s cultural politics. Dunn’s direction also makes the role of the audience unclear. As you enter, the actors are positioned frozen, ignoring the audience’s arrival. The audience settle in as the spy on the wall. As the play continues, there are then odd moments in which actors suddenly appear to see audience members again, shattering the illusion that was once created.

A more positive note about this production is its use of lighting (Anna Reddyhoff) and set design (Lucy Bond). The pale sparse staging is complemented by the continually changing palate of lighting colours. It not only mirrors the feelings of the scene, but also helps to change the settings, clarifying the action.

All in all, this is a play with bold intentions, but let down by a certain tone and execution.

 

Reviewed by Emily Morris

Photography by Max Williams

 


Reformation

White Bear Theatre until 13th July

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:
Grimm’s Fairy Tales | ★★ | April 2018
Lovebites | ★★★ | April 2018
The Old Room | ★★ | April 2018
The Unnatural Tragedy | ★★★★★ | July 2018
Eros | ★★ | August 2018
Schrodinger’s Dog | ★★★★ | November 2018
Franz Kafka – Apparatus | ★★★ | January 2019
The Project | ★★★ | March 2019
Swimming | ★★★★ | April 2019
Garry | ★★★ | June 2019

 

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