“interactive elements are interesting, but some feel a little rushed and unfocused”
Gruff theatre invites you into a surreal dystopia in their immersive show It Made Me Consider Me at the New Diorama. Set in an impressive site specific office location, the show plays with memory, using it as a commodity, a weapon and an opiate.
This is a very hard review to write as the strength of this show lies in the individual experience of the audience members – so spoilers are definitely out. What is admirable is this show’s ambition. It’s taken the challenge of a huge imposing space, with labyrinthine corridors and attempted to fill it with a story that is both out there and intimate. In many ways, they succeed. There is an eerie feeling, like you’ve stumbled into a an episode of Black Mirror. However obscure, the story telling is consistent and stays rooted in its characters. There are some awkward, chilling moments which catch you off guard.
Unfortunately, for me, the show relies too heavily on the surreal, some of the traits too overblown. It’s more powerful when it stays simple and true. The fragile Christopher stands out as particularly effective as his personal memories are manipulated in front of his perspective ‘colleagues’ – its awkward, squirming and very real. In comparison, Ralph’s more profound and obvious breakdown seems garish. It’s fun, but it loses some of the emotional impact. The interactive elements are interesting, but some feel a little rushed and unfocused. Some moments are give the time to hit, which breaks the tension.
Overall, this was a very interesting experience, but a little scattered. The performances were sharp and the manipulation of the space was brilliant, but subtle was over powered by absurdities or not given room to breathe. This is an exciting company, but they need to have the confidence to not over do their own effects.
“a welcomed breather from the usual pomp and cheesiness of Christmas shows”
With songs about not being a prick at Christmas or having sex with a reindeer, it’s fairly safe to say that Jonny Donahoe’s Thirty Christmases is probably not a show for all the family to see, even though family is what lies at the heart of this anecdotal comedy. If you’re feeling a little bah humbug this season or fed up with the sparkly, tacky commercialism of the whole Christmas period, then this hilariously risqué, yet, heart-warming story is for you.
Donahoe and Rachel Parris play two siblings, who haven’t had a decent Christmas in years, but want to put this right. However, before they can do such a thing, there are a few tiny issues such as their 10-year fight that has left them estranged, which needs sorting out first. Doing a show seems cheaper than therapy, so with the help of childhood friend Paddy (played by Donahoe’s musical comedy partner Paddy Gervers) they take a psychiatrist’s toolkit of role-play and songs, throw it on stage, and hope for the best. Through reliving various notable Christmases from the past, we are introduced to the rather unconventional lives they have led.
The cast give us a wonderfully warm and believable depiction of family dysfunction. They demonstrate the bizarre goings on that they were under the impression made up everyone’s family Christmas. Most of these eccentric ideas had come from their socialist, anarchist, agnostic, Jewish father. A man, who experimented with questionable new eggnog flavours and made Jonny and Rachel put their clothes in the freezer.
When we find out about their father going missing one Christmas, never to return, Thirty Christmases takes a new direction. Donahoe and Parris, in particular, display versatility in being able to portray more serious topics with touching sensitivity, alongside their aptitude for insightful, witty humour. It is the balance between the two that makes this a proficiently nuanced production, which could have quite easily slipped into either an anti-Christmas rant, or fluffy sentimentality.
The use of Jonny and The Baptists songs (Donahoe and Gervers’ band), really is the icing on the yule log, adding an amusingly perceptive twist on what Christmas truly means. Particular highlights are the alcoholic 12 Days of Christmas and Maybe It’s Christmas In Africa, which doesn’t hold back from ripping into charity singles.
All in all, this is most likely one of the best things you will see this festive season, as this faultless production offers a welcomed breather from the usual pomp and cheesiness of Christmas shows.
