“sometimes funny, but mostly heart-breaking, and brilliantly told”
It seems mad that something so silly as lunch can be so heated and rich in discussion, but it is. Somehow it draws in everything else that’s important: Family, culture, politics, self-worth. Everything can be got at by discussing what you just ate, be it a chicken nugget or an oyster. And in the case of Hungry, it’s both a chicken nugget and an oyster.
Lori, a highly strung chef, hires Bex as a waiter, and from their first day, there’s a pull between them. Both could talk for England, and both are bold and vivacious. But Lori shows her love by wanting to show Bex what she’s missing; all the finer things, “Chicken nuggets are not special, your life is not special. But it should be.” And whilst Bex knows there’s something wrong about this, she struggles to name it, particularly when Lori is so impassioned and enthusiastic.
This is not a story about goodies versus baddies. It’s about the good intentions of a white woman being misguided and patronising; a clash of heritage- both class and race. And, as a white audience member, that makes it both very uncomfortable to watch and very necessary. Because it’s uncomfortable when someone looks you in the eye, and gently but firmly tells you you’re wrong.
Writer Chris Bush has a way of writing dialogue that is simultaneously vernacular and rhapsodic, incorporating the personal with the political, so you never feel the characters are simply mouthpieces for a more important message. The first few scenes feel a bit manic, but the energetic characters can account for that, plus it’s a lot to fit in to 70 minutes, and presumably Bush wanted to get a wiggle on.
Two metal trolley tables act as pretty much the whole set. Slamming together at the beginning of a scene, or moving gently apart, they serve as worktop, kitchen table, bedframe, battleground. With two such strong characters, there’s really no need for much else, and the simplicity of Lydia Denno’s design means that, for example, when Bex starts stamping on crisp packets and throwing crisps around like confetti, it’s all the more affecting.
Melissa Lowe and Eleanor Sutton are electric together, matched in spirit and quality of performance. Their timing is immaculate, interrupting and withholding in exquisite tandem. Both roles are difficult in their own ways: Lowe’s Bex is mouthy and quick-witted, but she’s on the back foot in this relationship, which seems a strange amalgam in theory, but makes perfect sense in this performance. Similarly, Sutton’s Lori is nervous and neurotic, but she holds the power. Her arguments are thoughtful and persuasive, and yet deeply problematic- a difficult balance to pull off without seeming disingenuous.
This isn’t really about food, but food is the perfect vehicle for its message, because it is both universal, and personal; unifying and segregating. In short, it’s complicated and important, as is the story of Hungry, sometimes funny, but mostly heart-breaking, and brilliantly told.
Reviewed by Miriam Sallon
Photography by The Other Richard
Hungry
Soho Theatre until 30th July ahead of Edinburgh Festival Fringe 3rd-28th August
“Crane rules the roost, a joyously commanding performance, scarily swinging between sympathy and oppression”
A decade ago, Greenpeace International added yellowfin tuna to its seafood red list. Although not yet extinct their population, through unsustainable fishing methods, is dangerously depleted. In a global context this imbalance in nature helps destroy the human ecosystem. Take the concept a few steps further and the effects are catastrophic. Marek Horn’s new play delves into a (not too distant) future when not only the Yellowfin have disappeared, but also all of the world’s fish. And much of the world’s population. England is under water; drowning the English. Nonetheless, Horn’s outlandish dystopian satire brushes that minor inconvenience aside to focus on the piscatorial annihilation. There were fish. And then there weren’t fish. Simple as that.
Well. Not quite. A man called Calantini (Joshua James) is being questioned by three senators in a committee room on Capitol Hill. Calantini swears he abandoned the black-market years ago. His interrogators aren’t so sure. We are in Kafka territory, with more humour. The dialogue is playful and deliberately obscure. A Russian contamination conspiracy is thrown into the mix. Catalina’s complicity is thrown into question. There’s no proof of his innocence or guilt except for the loaded preconceptions of the cross-examiners. Part documentary, part courtroom drama and part absurdism, the piece invites us also to playfully question the power of the decision makers of the world.
The term ‘post-truth’ is resonant throughout. The characters brandish their words to create their own reality. There is an Orwellian tendency to refashion past events. It can be frightening but the cast’s understanding of the comedic value lightens the mood. Yet at the same time the fun they have with it paradoxically darkens the situation, intensifying its relevance.
Nancy Crane is Marianne, the Senator, full of authoritative disdain – not just for James’ Calantini but for the ‘Other’ Senators on the bench. Crane rules the roost, a joyously commanding performance, scarily swinging between sympathy and oppression. To her left is Nicholas Day as Roy, the elder statesman whose wisdom seems to have disappeared with the fish, replaced with a bumbling benevolence and some hilarious non-sequiturs. Beruce Khan’s Stephen is ambitious and officious but no match for Marianne. The trio embody an audacious caricature of the Senate while James’ character mockingly toys with their tenuous power.
Anisha Fields’ simple but austere set frames the action, the flags and Seals of Office serves to add gravity to the absurdity. And there is a seriousness to Horn’s writing that surfaces. A social commentary that swims alongside the skit. It is innovative, sometimes sketchy and sometimes drawn out, with touches of Ionesco too. It is a refreshing take on the world we live in, but occasionally feels as though it is taking on too much without fully resolving anything in particular. Climate change, fake news, Senate hearings, influencing, manipulation, are all undercurrents – threatening to pull us under instead of allowing us to tread water in the entertainment of the performances. And there’s nothing fishy about the fact that this is a hugely entertaining and engrossing show. A real catch.
