“The sense of fun is infectious, and we therefore forgive, even encourage, the corpsing and occasional adlibbing as they try sometimes to trip each other up”
We’re in a street ‘downtown’ somewhere. Somewhere in America. Somewhere in the Seventies. We know it’s the wrong side of town too. A young rookie Police Cop is cradling his dying older brother, to whom he makes the solemn promise to become “the Best. Damn. Police. Cop. Ever.” The earnest, drawn out, staccato delivery is a perfect parody of every American police movie or television series of that decade, but a mere taster for the next hour during which every nuance, plot twist and cliché are thrown into the back of the car and taken for a ride. And what a roller-coaster ride it is. It’s a ludicrous, hilarious journey.
It is a high-speed chase keeping up with Zachary Hunt, Tom Roe and Nathan Parkinson; the award-winning trio that have brought this show to the VAULT Festival following sell out runs at the Edinburgh Festival and the Soho Theatre. Armed with just sheer ingenuity, stamina and a handful of throwaway props and costumes they don’t let a second of stage time pass by without a gag. The only downside to this is that we have very few spaces to breathe between the laughs.
Political correctness is thrown out of the window from the start. After his brother’s soul has been carried away by the angels, the young cop Jimmy Johnson (Zachary Hunt) sets off to make good his promise. But not without enlisting the help of grizzled, disgraced, chain-smoking, beer-guzzling, ex-cop Harrison (Tom Roe). They have twenty-four hours to track down and ‘take out’ the Mexican drug baron Hernandez (Nathan Parkinson) in his hideaway before the Chief down at the Precinct starts breathing down their necks. Of course, they don’t play by the book; they lose their badges, split up, go it alone, reunite, have a quick ‘bromance’ and eventually sniff out the rat, Hernandez. In the meantime, there is a Flamenco version of the Rolling Stones’ “Paint It Black”, a villainous cat and a trip to Heaven and back, among many other off-the-wall through-stories, back-stories, subplots and moments of losing the plot.
The sense of fun is infectious, and we therefore forgive, even encourage, the corpsing and occasional adlibbing as they try sometimes to trip each other up. They have earned the right to that playfulness by being masters of their craft in the same way highly skilled jazz musicians can wander off on a tangent, yet fall back in time with the rest of the band within a beat. A musical analogy that can be extended to their physicality, too, displayed in some quite remarkably skilful, yet still tongue-in-cheek, choreography.
“Police Cops” is a real joyride of a show, and just as the intrepid cops are cleaning up the streets, I sense too that they will also clean up at the awards.
“without doubt visually and technically strong; occasionally, however, it feels as though something important is missing”
As innovative as he was, it is doubtful that H. G. Wells foresaw his most famous work – often referred to as “the first sci-fi novel” – being even remotely related to debates about the 2016 US elections, lizard people, and whether or not you’re allowed to vape at the dinner table. But, in their reimagining of Wells’ classic novel, Rhum and Clay have done just that. A story about Martians has become a story about the truth, and which version of it we choose to believe.
The War of the Worlds tells three stories simultaneously. The first is derived from Wells’ novel, detailing the Martians’ invasion of Earth. The second is the story behind Orson Welles’ 1938 radio adaptation of the novel, which was so realistic that it allegedly caused mass panic amongst the American public. Finally, in the present day, British blogger Meena travels to Grover’s Mill, New Jersey, to explore the effect of this hysteria on a local family – but goes far deeper than she intended. It won’t please those looking for a faithful adaptation of the novel, but the three stories fit together coherently and bring out aspects of each other well. Despite the sometimes tenuous connection between Meena’s narrative and the source material, it is an unexpectedly insightful way of exploring contemporary concerns about fake news and political paranoia.
The weaker moments are often strengthened by an energetic and committed cast. Mona Goodwin makes Meena a likeable character, who is naïve and earnest despite the self-serving nature of her project. Julian Spooner brings a sense of urgency, particularly through his portrayal of news reporter Carl Phillips; Matthew Wells’ gravitas grounds the action during its more melodramatic moments. Of the four, Amalia Vitale is the most captivating, particularly in the role of Lawson. She has an amazing stage presence: even when she is only a background character, it is hard not to watch her. Set designer Bethany Wells must also be credited for her simple yet effective stage. The translucent walls that surround the space help create a sense of artificiality; the way they obscure the characters’ movements adds a sinister edge.
That being said, there are still some elements of the show that are a little difficult to be enthusiastic about. It has a lot to say about relevant and exciting topics, yet the ending does not tie these things together as effectively as it should. Meena’s story in particular feels a little rushed and unfinished. It is without doubt visually and technically strong; occasionally, however, it feels as though something important is missing.
Rhum and Clay have successfully given an oft-told story a new sense of relevance. Although the final product does not fully do justice to their vision, it is still entertaining, insightful, and above all an effective immersion into a sinister and intriguing world – one that is far closer than we think.
