Tag Archives: Nico Pimparé

Rainer

★★★★★

Arcola Theatre

Rainer

Rainer

Arcola Theatre

Reviewed – 4th October 2021

★★★★★

 

“‘Rainer’ is a show that is as entertaining as it is eye opening. Impossible to ignore”

 

Who is ‘Rainer’? It’s a good question. Rainer probably isn’t sure of the answer herself. Maybe she doesn’t want the true answer. Initially, we certainly don’t, as she struts and frets on and off the stage. She is the girl for whom you quicken your step as she reels towards you from across the street, showering you with a constant stream of anguished, angular syllables. Or she’s the unhinged untouchable who pins you to the doorway at a party as you’re trying to leave. You think her tirade is coming to its end when the staccato ‘anyway’ steers it into another direction. The acoustics aren’t so good, so you don’t catch a lot of her words. Your attention drifts, returning in unwanted waves. You can smell danger, but it’s an undercurrent. Your impatience is stronger, willing you to walk away. You don’t really care what she has to say – it has turned into background noise.

Sorcha Kennedy is ‘Rainer’, the eponymous character of the one woman show, running as part of the Arcola festival of outdoor art and performance: ‘Today I’m Wiser’. The hard wooden seating and creeping autumnal cold don’t help much. You feel a bit like an eavesdropper to the event.

But then something clicks into place. It is a quite beautiful moment and one of the truest theatrical experiences. You kick yourself for being so indifferent. So ignorant. Kennedy’s ‘Rainer’ is an astonishing portrayal of an invisible character that we see every day. Her depiction is increasingly spellbinding as she unleashes the issues of mental illness that we normally try to avoid. It shakes us up. Yes, we are all guilty of switching off. Of crossing the road to the other side. This play makes us realise we are the problem, and when we realise this, we listen harder, and we are fascinated. And we care. For we now see the multiple layers beneath problems we normally view through squinted eyes.

You will be gripped by this short piece. Kennedy works hard to grab our attention and once she has it, she won’t let go. We follow her solitary journey across London, weaving through the suburbs, the flats, the clubs, and galleries; ricocheting off characters she derides and envies in equal measure. We follow her down the rabbit hole until she reaches lower than rock bottom. Reality slips and it is difficult to differentiate hallucination from fact. “He was never here. Nor was I” she exclaims with a silent question mark, referring to Jack, her lover and saviour. She’s a Scorsese subversive, yet aching to find reason in the shattered looking glass she has climbed through.

Max Wilkinson’s writing is sharp enough to cut Rainer’s wrists, but Nico Pimpare’s dynamic direction pulls the piece back from tragedy and we are ultimately left with an overriding feeling of hope. It has been a thrilling journey, spurred on by Johanna Burnhearts live musical accompaniment. The breakdown becomes a celebration. The unseen becomes seen. This show, intentionally or not, does more for mental health awareness than a month of seminars could achieve. It is illuminating, and essentially it is a confounding performance. Expectations start low, but Kennedy lifts them sky-high. Rainer is a character that refuses to be ignored. She is also out there on our streets, perhaps a less persuasive or noticeable version. But let’s try not to ignore the real Rainer too.

‘Rainer’ is a show that is as entertaining as it is eye opening. Impossible to ignore.

 

Reviewed by Jonathan Evans

 


Rainer

Arcola Theatre until 9th October

 

Previously reviewed at this venue this year:
The Game Of Love And Chance | ★★★★ | July 2021
The Narcissist | ★★★ | July 2021

 

 

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Candy

Candy

★★★★

King’s Head Theatre

Candy

Candy

King’s Head Theatre

Reviewed – 19th January 2020

★★★★

 

“Waller’s technique of confiding in us, seeking affirmation from individual after individual in the audience is effortless and effective”

 

Tim Fraser’s ‘Candy’ benefits from an intriguing story idea. Will, a regular guy from a regular Northern town, falls in love with his best friend’s drag persona, Candy. The power of a good premise is evident in the work’s origin, picked out from around a thousand submissions to be staged at the Bunker Theatre in 2018, and here it is, playing to a full house at the Kings Head Theatre, in a new, full-length version.

The play’s second asset is the character of Will himself, tongue-tied in real life but possessed of a sparkling and relentless internal monologue delivered with stamina and charm by Michael Waller. As Will tells of his angst, his dreams, of his fury at the lies sown by his Aunt’s romantic comedy collection, his contemplation of anatomy in the matter of attraction and the alienation he feels amongst his heteronormative friends and colleagues, Waller’s technique of confiding in us, seeking affirmation from individual after individual in the audience is effortless and effective.

Admittedly, from its promising springboard, the tale doesn’t get far. Will doesn’t grow, his besotted state seems neither lustful, nor part of a greater transformation. There’s no sense that Bill, the quirky, indeed wilful, mate from school that went down to the Big Smoke and created Candy, is the real connection he’s striving to make. Instead, the hour’s narrative is pithily summarised by Will himself in an anticlimactic moment of revelation, when he simply confesses, ‘In short, I’m confused.’

The production, devised by the performer himself, never escapes the confines of Will’s head, but Nico Pimparé’s direction keeps things lively with strategically placed folding chairs and a microphone stand for Will to stroll and cavort between, while Stephen Waller’s original music conveys a far-from raunchy drag act as the object of Will’s confusion and elsewhere builds atmosphere unobtrusively.

If, as programme notes hint, a film adaptation may be in the works, Tim Fraser has his work cut out. The idea of a Northern English town with no understanding of drag culture is quaint, and despite Will’s candour and hilarious male logic, nothing quite happens. There’s almost a breakthrough when Will realises that his toad-like Aunt was herself a very different persona in early life…but no, no epiphany, no insight into the social construct of identity, no realisation that love is deeper than a moment of boozed up infatuation. On his mother’s advice, Will retreats to the embrace of Aunt’s sofa-indentations and resigns not to meet Candy, or Bill, again. However, if a second or third act is forthcoming, perhaps one day we might.

 

Reviewed by Dominic Gettins

Photography by Faidon Loumakis

 


Candy

King’s Head Theatre until 20th January

 

Last ten shows reviewed at this venue:
Margot, Dame, The Most Famous Ballerina In The World | ★★★ | July 2019
Mating In Captivity | ★★★★ | July 2019
Oddball | ★★★½ | July 2019
How We Begin | ★★★★ | August 2019
World’s End | ★★★★ | August 2019
Stripped | ★★★★ | September 2019
The Elixir Of Love | ★★★★★ | September 2019
Tickle | ★★★★ | October 2019
Don’t Frighten The Straights | ★★★ | November 2019
The Nativity Panto | ★★★★ | December 2019

 

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