★★★

“a joyful celebration that brings a smile to our faces”

In today’s Google-driven society there are numerous sites on the internet that advise us on the dos and don’ts of that infamous English institution: the office Christmas party. In the past we would just muddle through and deal with the hangover and yearly embarrassment in our own time, with heads bowed low by the water cooler. Lydia Kavanagh’s one act, one person play takes us straight into the heart of an end-of-year celebration, complete with Prosecco, vol-au-vents, cheesy music and all the mixed personality types who put their inhibitions through the shredder for a couple of hours. Even if you’ve never held an office job, Laura Rea’s naturalistic performance in “Deck the Stalls” allow us to relate to the many personalities she portrays.

Rea is Serena, a no-nonsense Geordie from the Byker district of Newcastle. An English Lit graduate who somehow ended up in Milton Keynes as an office worker. Trapped in life she is now cornered on all sides at the party before finding a narrow escape route to the toilet cubicles. There’s Middle Management Maddison who loves to delegate, HR Sandra who loves rules but has ‘gone rogue’ after one too many glasses of bubbly; single mum Chrissie from data analysis, and Dave – the ‘self-imposed’ DJ for the night (nobody asked him to spin the decks); Guardian-reading, ‘morally vegan’, lesbian Ellen. And finally, Steven, the fit dad who cycles to work, thoroughly married but carrying on with Serena in the broom cupboard at work.

It is an office that is built on formula and somewhat clichéd caricature, but Rea gives a freshness to each, deftly switching accents, mannerisms and facial expression. The comedy is all very predictable, and we are wondering where it is going but Rea has a way of engaging with the audience that keeps us waiting. For there is a bombshell – or rather more of a party popper. It isn’t going to bring the roof down, but it does give a twist that leads us out of the humdrum. There is also an undercurrent to the festivities that the writing uncovers. As we follow Serena into the ladies’ cubicle (it’s okay, we’re allowed to do that – it is the office party after all) we see another side to her. It is her first Christmas since her father passed away and for a few moments we glimpse the sense of grief that is buried beneath the armour-plated cynicism. For Serena, being alone is the best way to alleviate her sense of loneliness.

It is the contrast of the raucous humour and the quiet reflection that lend shade to the evening, except the highs and the lows are not sufficiently explored and we find ourselves on fairly level ground. We are unsure of how far Serena has sunk into her sadness or how much focus we should be putting onto it. Serena, too, is not the most sympathetic character so it is difficult to fully root for her. Nevertheless, Rea’s versatility creates a very watchable personality who, under Chloe Cattin’s taut direction, brings to life the chaos of office politics gone astray under the influence of alcohol. Some call this ‘Anti-Panto’. It acknowledges that regret and despair don’t take a holiday – even at Christmas. But “Deck the Stalls” still manages to be a joyful celebration that brings a smile to our faces.

THE UNSEEN at the Riverside Studios

★★★★

“Wright’s writing and Patarkatsishvili’s staging pitch the message just right”

Orwell, Kafka and Beckett walk into a bar. Sounds like the premise for a joke, and indeed there is a perverse layer of humour that runs through Craig Wright’s “The Unseen”, but on the whole it is made up of pretty serious stuff. There are definite shades of the three writers’ influence, who could well have been swapping notes as they downed their drinks. The bar man is a young, interrupting Tarantino who fancies himself as a bit of a dramaturg while pulling pints. Frivolity and comparison aside, though, Wright’s heavy, harrowing, thought-provoking style comes with its own ambition, agenda and raw uniqueness.

We are plunged straight into the action. Even during the pre-show we are involuntary voyeurs, gazing upon Valdez (Waj Ali) and Wallace (Richard Harrington) in their solitary prison cells. Wallace is asleep while Valdez nervously looks around him, twitching at the sight of invisible ghosts. We see the whites of his eyes as they roll upwards in fear, dejection and confusion. Simon Kenny’s brutally realistic set encases both protagonists in their own worlds. Their own cells, and thoughts. Without making eye contact they communicate, passing the time playing memory games to keep madness at bay. They are grieving for their lost freedom, exacerbated by the fact that neither one (nor us) knows why they have been incarcerated.

Fear and paranoia continually wrestle with hope and optimism. The former invariably gaining the upper hand. A distinctly wordy play, both actors maintain an extraordinary command of the dialogue. Harrington’s Wallace is the more restrained and resigned elder captive. A slave to routine after eleven years, he is just about managing to keep control of his own mind. Waj Ali, as the younger Valdez, is a relative newcomer. Just three years into his stretch he is on rockier ground, conjuring up a hallucinatory woman in the next cell who has promised to help him escape. But both know their only escape from this world is death. Both actors exercise an extraordinary attention to detail that accentuates their personality traits; long buried under institutionalisation.

Into this world bursts Smash, the prison guard whose impossibly complex and damaged character is breathlessly brought to life by Ross Tomlinson. As much a prisoner as the two captives, he lashes out with murderous intent in a vain attempt to kill the oppressive empathy he feels. Both torturer and tortured, we can’t help but wonder how Tomlinson unwinds after each performance. It is a savage hour and a half, and undoubtedly polemic. Director Iya Patarkatsishvili describes it as “more than just a story; it is a call to action”. And for that reason, it deserves to be seen far beyond the smaller space of Riverside Studios. The macabre gallery we walk through on our way into the auditorium bears witness to the reality that is more disturbing than the fiction. The play’s anonymous setting is betrayed by the caged headshots of Russians who have taken a stand against Putin’s regime and found themselves imprisoned as a result.

Against this backdrop, Wright’s writing and Patarkatsishvili’s staging pitch the message just right. Short enough to hit us with a whiplash force, the grotesque humour pricks up our ears to the message that sinks in as insidiously as Orwell’s infamous ‘newspeak’. Not for the faint hearted, its own heart is ferociously strong. Mike Walker’s palpitating sound design sends literal alarm bells. This is happening every day. The finely nuanced and authentic performances are integral to our understanding of ‘The Unseen’ characters. They need to be seen, just as their factual counterparts do. “The Unseen”, in short, is a must see.

DECK THE STALLS

Riverside Studios

★★★

“a joyful celebration that brings a smile to our faces”

DECK THE STALLS

Riverside Studios

Reviewed on 18th December 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Jamie McNaught

Previously reviewed at this venue:

DECK THE STALLS

DECK THE STALLS

DECK THE STALLS

THE UNSEEN at the Riverside Studios

★★★★

“Wright’s writing and Patarkatsishvili’s staging pitch the message just right”