A Curmudgeon’s Guide to Christmas Round Robin Letters
Hope Theatre
Reviewed – 7th December 2017
★★½
“There is a reassuringly relaxed and fun quality to the pair that can’t help but draw us in”
As the Christmas season erupts to dominate the theatre calendar, we can look forward to a stockpile of emails and social media messages to bring in the occasion. The Hope Theatre instead chooses a different path. Focusing on the round robin letters real people have sent over the years, ‘A Curmudgeon’s Guide …’ flicks between the smug, the funny and the tragic from those who choose to update us on their year just gone.
Loosely, the piece is held together through a rough framing device. We are invited into the home of a couple, played by Kate Russell-Smith and Claire Lacey. Over time they have amassed a vast collection of letters from a variety of family, friends and far off acquaintances. They choose to share a few of them with us over the course of just under an hour.
Scott Le Crass’ production begins brightly. The lighting design from Jai Morjaria is comfortable in bathing the play in a glowing, warm tinge. There is a reassuringly relaxed and fun quality to the pair that can’t help but draw us in as they offer us treats and invite us to pull crackers. Some of the initial letters, all collected from a book by Simon Hoggart, are fun and it is a joy to hear some of the outlandishly boastful claims that families have sent over the years. But after a while the repetitious nature of mocking each letter begins to grate. This combines with a poorly developed story behind the characters that fails to draw its audience in.
In Russell-Smith and Lacey, you get the sense of real talent being wasted. Lacey brings a jagged edge to her put downs as Russell-Smith emits a lighter demeanour that is engaging to watch. But they are bogged down with a relationship that is punctuated by increasingly unrealistic stoppages, building to an ending that seemingly had the intention of drawing emotion but comes across as melodramatic and unearned. There is also a hint in parts that the show shares notes of the smugness present in quite a few of the letters.
As an idea there is potentially an interesting concept, but the narrative and conceit are far too separate in execution to make a fully coherent show. Ultimately, ‘A curmudgeon’s guide’ is a muddled package that fails to carry the fun warmth of its beginning.
Reviewed by Callum McCartney
A Curmudgeon’s Guide to Christmas Round Robin Letters
“A painfully realistic portrayal of the harshness of real life endured by so many”
The working partnership of writer Leon Fleming and director Scott le Crass return with this bleak two-hander focusing on often ignored, mental health and modern day socio-economic issues.
Set in and around a Birmingham tower block, it’s a gritty real life tale of the hardships facing ‘Him’ (James Clay) and ‘Her’ (Helen Budge) – a close brother and sister both battling against illness, living on the breadline and a seemingly uncaring system.
The story flits between the childhood of the siblings, the sneaky Lambrini swigging sessions (hastily disguised with a Polo mint) discussing their hopes and dreams for later life, to present day – ‘Her’ now an unemployed mother of two young children struggling to cope and ‘Him’ also jobless and battling with mental health issues and the stigma that comes with them. Their mother, with her own complex issues adding to the ever increasing burden on the pair.
James Clay and Helen Budge are very believable siblings; slightly bossy older sister, insecure younger brother, relentless Mickey taking of one another, petty rivalries, but always a deep and caring, ever conquering love for one another.
Clay’s mannerisms and acting throughout are signs of an excellently researched piece. The constant awkwardness of his hands, wringing and grasping; his ever present knack of finding humour in adversity masking his inner sadness; the pained facial expressions, all very realistic traits of a young life being lost to the demons of anxiety and depression.
Budge as a mouthy mother and outspoken sister is equally charming. You really start to feel for her, struggling to cope and to make ends meet. We share her happiness and laughter and feel her pain as it finally all gets too much for her.
A stark set (Justin Williams and Jonny Rust) comprising of drab concrete paving and four featureless cubes made to resemble concrete blocks worked perfectly. Simply rearranged to create everything from a soulless jobcentre to a hospital bed or even a loving home – their simplicity belies their adaptability. Symbolic to the harshness of life, yet also with a hidden beauty.
Kicked in the Sh*tter makes you really think about people. Real people. The situations portrayed in Fleming’s plot are fact for millions around the country yet all too often the only air time they ever get portrays them all as spongers and layabouts. Our brother and sister are neither, they are where they are because of the hand life has dealt them – desperate for help, but faced with a black and white social security system that judges and rarely sees shades of grey.
It’s a painfully realistic portrayal of the harshness of real life endured by so many and thus deserves a larger audience; a perfect piece to be adapted for a television drama.
A disappointing turn out to the show I saw, perhaps the combined pairing of mental health and social economics a bit ‘too much’ for some, or they have preconceived ideas jaded by frivolous Channel 5 documentaries. I would implore you to go and see this show with an open mind. You will see things in a light you wouldn’t expect. You will be moved and touched.
