“Michael Akinsulire’s Othello is a commanding presence.”
We are in a rough suburban pub. It could be London, but more likely a Northern province; the accents give nothing away. But the accentuation of Shakespeare’s words crackles with a dynamic menace that propels us headlong into the ensuing tragedy. Beer bottles and baseball bats are the weapons of choice, a pool table is the battlefield. Frantic Assembly’s fierce retelling drags “Othello”, kicking and screaming, well and truly into the twenty-first century. The jealousy, revenge, paranoia and racism are brought so close to home you can practically smell the beer on the breath; and you’re not sure if you’re about to be kissed or killed.
The opening sequence sets the theme. The electronic duo, Hybrid, provides a throbbing soundtrack that epitomises the tensions. The pecking order is beautifully established in the staccato movement that is both balletic and thuggish. Purists look away – but these moments evocatively replace much of the text that Scott Graham and Steven Hoggett have sliced from the original.
Michael Akinsulire’s Othello is a commanding presence. A powerful gang leader but with a gullibility and vulnerability that Akinsulire manages to pull off without it clashing with, or weakening, his power. Chanel Waddock is a fiery and feral Desdemona, genuinely baffled by the injustices of her husband’s accusations. The performances are powerful, yet unafraid to expose the weaknesses inherent in the characters. Weaknesses that are exploited by Joe Layton’s distrustful and fearful Iago. Layton’s unflinching performance sets the standard and throws down the gauntlet for others to match. Which they do. This is a tight-knit gang who move, think, and speak as one body.
The themes of jealousy and revenge in “Othello” are inherently heightened and often difficult to infuse with realism. It works with these characters, that are dangerous and youthful; fuelled by cheap alcohol and seeming social deprivation. Laura Hopkins’ fluid set displays the grimy claustrophobia that funnels the raging emotions. We never escape the pub setting, except when the walls unfold to reveal the back alleys. At other times the walls shift, threatening to envelop the characters as they sink further into the crevasses of their consequences.
Slightly overwhelming, it is nevertheless thrilling. The key moments are highlighted while superfluity is banished. There is a fine balance between the electrifying physicality and the subtle discourse. The tragic finale comes across as a bit rushed, with a body count veering on the comical. The fault lies in the script: as with some of his other plays, the loose ends seem to be tied up with a deadline-defeating desperation. It’s a flaw the writer can surely iron out with experience though! But with a performance as strong as this, Frantic Assembly will undoubtedly help to ensure that Shakespeare’s work achieves the longevity it deserves.
“Each moment is a highlight, each step a carefully chosen phrase. An organic amalgam of light, sound, choreography.”
“Message In A Bottle” is the latest extravaganza from Kate Prince and her ZooNation company. The queen of hip-hop, Prince has made her mark already with the hits ‘Some Like it Hip Hop’, ‘Into the Hoods’ and ‘Everybody’s Talking About Jamie’. Drawing on Sting’s extensive back catalogue she has woven together a story of a refugee family in crisis. The more Juke Box Musicals proliferate in the West End, the more it becomes apparent that story tellers have problems fitting existing songs to a pre-conceived narrative. Whether Juke Box Dance (if such a term exists) is an easier option, I wouldn’t know, but the skill and virtuosity of the dancers make the story crystal clear and, for the most part, nothing jars with the choice of music.
Sting has often gone with the flow of the zeitgeist of socio-political opinion which, in turn, has shaped his lyrics. So it is no surprise that they lend themselves to the themes of displacement and civil war. Set in an unnamed country, we witness the plight of a community torn apart as their homes are destroyed, and we follow one family in particular on their journey to a new, initially hostile land. The music can’t tell this story on its own, yet the choreography can. Prince is a master of the art, ZooNation an inspiration, mixing street dance and ballet with ease. It is almost impossible to identify the individual dancers with the characters on stage, but no one needs to be singled out here. The whole company is exceptional; at times moving as one, breaking apart and coming together again with pops and pirouettes, break-dance moves and a gymnastic flair that is breath-taking.
We are swept along by the dual currents of the choreography and the music. “King of Pain” pinpoints the explosion of unrest, a black sun hanging over Ben Stones’ minimalist set. “Shape of my Heart” is a beautiful moment, a loving oasis amidst the chaos. “The Bed’s Too Big Without You” is a stunning combination of the dance, moving in perfect time to Andrzej Goulding’s projections and Natasha Chivers’ lighting. Each moment is a highlight, each step a carefully chosen phrase. An organic amalgam of light, sound, choreography. And the music. However, there are occasional jarring moments. “Don’t Stand So Close To Me”, for example, sat uncomfortably with the vision of black-hooded oppressors manhandling the refugees. It was impossible to divorce the original meaning of the lyrics from the scene being played out onstage. Elsewhere it worked better. The undertones of menace and stalking inherent in “Every Breath You Take” were well emphasised.
It’s not all doom and gloom. “Love is the Seventh Wave” opened up the skies to a dawn of hope, the black sun now a bright star. But the real stars of the show are the dancers. You’ll be singing Sting’s songs directly to them; “Every move you make, every step you take, I’ll be watching you…”
