Tag Archives: Philip Ridley

LEAVES OF GLASS

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Park Theatre

LEAVES OF GLASS at the Park Theatre

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“Max Harrison’s staging is beautifully faithful and sympathetic to the writing.”

Memories contain errors. Memory is highly malleable; therefore, often unreliable. It can be altered by emotional state from the very second it becomes a memory. Or many years later. Yet most of us like to think our own recollections are infallible, even when we know we might be twisting it. That’s just survival, according to Philip Ridley who explores these themes in his 2007 play β€œLeaves of Glass”. The middle episode of his β€˜Brothers Trilogy’, it was preceded by β€˜Mercury Fur’ and followed by β€˜Piranha Heights’.

β€œLeaves of Glass” centres around two brothers, Steven (Ned Costello) and Barry (Joseph Potter). Five years apart in age, but on the surface, they couldn’t be further apart from each other. Steven runs a successful graffiti removal business while Barry, despite being a bit of a dogsbody in the firm, is a struggling artist. Steven appears to have his head screwed on, whereas Barry’s is lost in drink and hallucinations. Their respective memories of their father, whom they lost at a young age, are on different tracks. Yet there are similarities that bond them. But like similar poles of a magnet, they repel each other. Their mother Liz (Kacey Ainsworth) tentatively holds them together, despite her affections wavering between the two as wildly as her own recollections. The only solid presence is Steven’s pregnant wife Debbie (Katie Eldred) who is aware of the fragility of the family, but her tolerance doesn’t stretch to assuring nothing gets broken.

The intensity of the play comes not just from the spoken word, but the silence that surrounds a traumatic incident from the brothers’ childhood that neither seems willing to talk about. When the silence snaps, the effect is shocking. The pieces come together but nothing fits, as the final battle of memories is like a duel to the death.

“Sam Glossop’s underscore splits the play’s segments like splinters of sound that throw us off balance”

The intensity of the play also undoubtedly comes from the performances. Costello and Potter both capture the inherent danger in Ridley’s script and in their characters. Costello in particular, like a brooding prisoner who never leaves the stage. Neither can escape their version of the truth – a truth that we can only keep guessing about. Eldred’s Debbie, the outsider, is more grounded but not quite strong enough to dodge the fallout from the brothers’ mind games. Ainsworth is a mix of concern and complicity as the mother who inflates her own ability to cope. β€˜I’ve buried two parents and a husband’ she continually reminds us, β€˜I think I’m capable of carrying some tea and biscuits’. The little hints of domesticity are a thin gauze over the deep cracks that run through this family.

Ridley’s signature is splashed all over the piece, although less shocking, and perhaps more thoughtful, than some of his other work. Max Harrison’s staging is beautifully faithful and sympathetic to the writing. Some scenes are short, like pieces of broken glass. Other scenes start when they are already up and running. They end unresolved. It is discomforting and reflects the unravelling of the minds of these four protagonists. The actors come into the scenes from different angles – as jagged as the eponymous leaves of glass. Alex Lewer’s lighting is just as evocative, swinging from harshness to near darkness like a horror film’s bare light bulb; while Sam Glossop’s underscore splits the play’s segments like splinters of sound that throw us off balance.

It is difficult to tell the difference between a lie and a truth misremembered. This family is built on both – a pretty unstable foundation to begin with. It is not always easy viewing to witness, but the craftmanship of the acting and the writing force us not to look away. Memory may be fragile, but β€œLeaves of Glass” will be difficult to forget.


LEAVES OF GLASS at the Park Theatre

Reviewed on 25th January 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Mark Senior

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

KIM’S CONVENIENCE | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | January 2024
21 ROUND FOR CHRISTMAS | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | December 2023
THE TIME MACHINE – A COMEDY | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | December 2023
IKARIA | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | November 2023
PASSING | β˜…β˜…β˜…Β½ | November 2023
THE INTERVIEW | β˜…β˜…β˜… | November 2023
IT’S HEADED STRAIGHT TOWARDS US | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | September 2023
SORRY WE DIDN’T DIE AT SEA | β˜…β˜…Β½ | September 2023
THE GARDEN OF WORDS | β˜…β˜…β˜… | August 2023
BONES | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | July 2023
PAPER CUT | β˜…β˜…Β½ | June 2023
LEAVES OF GLASS | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | May 2023

LEAVES OF GLASS

LEAVES OF GLASS

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Vincent River

Vincent River

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Greenwich Theatre

VINCENT RIVER at the Greenwich Theatre

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Vincent River

“Taylor and Kimaryo are convincing and honest enough together”

 

The tragic themes in Philip Ridley’s one act two-hander, first produced in 2000 and regularly revived since, sadly retain their relevance today. This new production is set in a rather timeless era though with old-fashioned decor (and no evidence of any mobile phones) so we could be watching a period piece set anytime from the 1980s onwards.

The action takes place in a shabby room in East London with a ghastly red fitted carpet, whitewashed windows, peeling wallpaper, and a cruddy-looking sofa. There is a scattering of boxes around the floor, evidencing that Anita (Kerrie Taylor) has not yet finished moving in. A naked light bulb hangs from the ceiling. (Set & Costume Designer Alice Carroll).

Forced out of her previous home by gossiping neighbours, Anita is looking for a new start. But a boy who she has seen loitering near her old house, has now followed her here and she is curious to find out why. Davey (Brandon Kimaryo) – full of nervous energy, twisting and turning, unable to keep still – walks in through her open door and admits to having found the dead body of Anita’s son Vince, killed in a homophobic attack in an unsavoury disused station toilet. He now cannot unsee what he saw and wants to talk about Vince to make him β€œwalk out of his head”.

Anita is full of suppressed anger. Her mood is volatile, quick to pique. Her voice rises to a shriek and then falls again to a whisper. She suspects Davey of involvement somehow in Vince’s death, certainly he knows more than he is saying. Facing off across the room, two metres apart, they interrogate each other. He wants to know all about the boy. She needs to know details of his death. When they encroach closer, Davey towers over her. She gives him cigarettes and gin. He gives her a foot massage and dope.

Together they replay what occurred on the fateful day, pacing out the action across the living room carpet. Director James Haddrell moves the couple around the room naturally and is not afraid to have them sit in silence when the conversation dries up. Little by little, they give up bits of their own story to learn something new from the other. But Davey has the more to explain and when he removes his black hoodie prior to an explosion of visceral grief, his smart shirt below is drenched in sweat.

The closing scene as Davey attempts to assuage his own feelings of guilt might have been a stretch for a young actor but Kimaryo (making his professional debut whilst still at drama school) nails it totally in a masterful display. Kerrie Taylor performs well too, collapsing to the floor in her own moment of despair. The complete story is finally told – tragic, sickening, and in parts somewhat implausible – but Taylor and Kimaryo are convincing and honest enough together that the action grips without slipping into soap opera.

 

 

Reviewed on 27th June 2023

by Phillip Money

Photography by Henry Roberts

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

 

An Intervention | β˜…β˜…β˜…Β½ | July 2022
Bad Days And Odd Nights | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | June 2021

 

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