THE SOLID LIFE OF SUGAR WATER at the Orange Tree Theatre
★★★★★
“Both Katie Erich and Adam Fenton are immaculately cast. Initially seeming a strange match, they grow in strength as a couple before our very eyes”
In the programme, before any cast information or plot summary, Dr Michelle Tolfrey talks us through how best to support a friend who has lost a baby. Because of course, it’s such a fragile, awful situation in which, as she says, “you feel terrified of every word you say.” And despite the frequency of the tragedy in this country (director India Lown-Collins says that there were 2,597 stillbirths in the UK in 2021) we don’t really talk about it, because it feels so impossible to begin the conversation.
In this case, it begins with the least sexy sex scene- “Neither of us has washed in weeks”- both in thick knits and woolly socks, and using pillows and bed sheets to demonstrate physical intimacy, despite being only centimetres away from each other. One might easily mistake this for a comedy.
But this awkward, silly scene continues, spliced throughout, first in the telling of how Alice and Phil met, through their courting, to the first years of marriage, and finally to the pregnancy, and its premature termination. Suddenly this sex scene is not so funny, and the reason it’s not sexy is also the reason that despite how horribly awkward and seemingly unpleasant it appears to be, they insist on carrying on. Because at some point, they have to try to carry on.
I’m sorry I’ve told you the whole plot, but it doesn’t really matter. You already know where this is going as soon as you hear the subject, and ultimately it becomes a matter of degrees of tragedy: After something so awful happening to a young couple, can they make it through together?
Both Katie Erich and Adam Fenton are immaculately cast. Initially seeming a strange match, they grow in strength as a couple before our very eyes. Fenton’s enthusiasm and earnestness counters Erich’s bold forthrightness, and both are unafraid to show their innards without warranting much explanation. In fact, this is a theme of Jack Thorne’s play, that we are so entirely within the heart of the tragedy that lengthy explanation is superfluous.
Both leads have disabilities, but this is only worth mentioning because it’s near entirely irrelevant, except to say that director Indiana Lown-Collins has humbled the West End in their lack of inclusivity, showing how utterly immaterial disability is to quality of performance.
Ica Niemz’ design isn’t wholly unexpected, mostly taken up by a big bed that is made and unmade throughout. But it feels completely fitting for a story that, despite taking place largely in other rooms- hospital, cinema, gallery, post office- is always circling the marital bed.
Thorne has found a way to speak the unspeakable, with so much humour and humanity, my heart still hurts thinking about it the next morning.
“There are some great songs in this show and Danusia really can sing”
Danusia Samal’s lovingly crafted show, based on her experiences of busking on the London Underground is engaging, moving, funny and utterly delightful. Anyone who can start a show by singing Otis Redding, and get away with it, is clearly a highly accomplished singer and Danusia more than got away with it, she owned it.
Standing on a set, splendidly designed by Bethany Wells to evoke the Underground, Danusia takes the audience with her on a trip down memory lane that includes characters such as her Mum, her ‘almost Dad,’ Experience, a boyfriend and assorted commuters. ‘Picture this.’ she asks several times, and then draws a portrait through words and song that vividly evoke vignettes from her busking life. The sense of the loneliness of the busker, ignored by passers by, singing her songs to a sea of strangers, is beautifully counterbalanced by the arrival in her life of a character she refers to as Experience. Experience likes to sing, and acts as a sort of alter-ego, pushing Danusia to confront her feelings, to dare to act, and to experience life.
There are some great songs in this show and Danusia really can sing. She is accompanied by two musicians, Joe Archer and Adam Cross and there is great communication between the three of them. Music is the thread that holds the show together, and music can be powerful, often inducing an emotional response better than any other medium. The audience share in Danusia’s feelings as she takes a journey through her memories. Sarah Readman’s lighting Design and Jon McLeod’s sound design work seamlessly with the set to create the underground, the backdrop to her story. The direction has a light touch, leaving the show to feel very natural and immediate, Guy Jones has done a lovely job with this.
I really recommend this show. Catch it while it’s still at Shoreditch Town Hall, you won’t regret it!
