CANNED GOODS

Southwark Playhouse Borough

★★★

“The final scenes are affecting – the clever use of lighting being one of the stars of the show”

A farmer, a petty thief and a Jewish philosopher walk up to some bars. Sounds like the beginning of a bad taste joke. And it is. This is the sickest of all jokes as the three mismatched Third Reich prisoners – the eponymous Canned Goods – are fattened, flattered and sold a lie about their date with destiny.

So why are they receiving unexpected kindnesses from their SS jailers? The answer is to be found in the programme notes which somewhat drains the evening of tension.

This is writer Erik Kahn’s retelling of the Gleiwitz incident on August 31, 1939, which effectively began World War Two.

The Gleiwitz Incident was a false flag operation carried out by Nazi Germany to create a pretext for invading Poland. In the incident, SS operatives, dressed in Polish military uniforms, attacked a German radio station in the town of Gleiwitz.

To bolster the illusion, they used the bodies of prisoners, dressed them in Polish uniforms, and left them at the site as “evidence” for the Press to photograph.

Much of what is known about Gleiwitz comes from the affidavit of SS-Sturmbannführer Alfred Naujocks at the Nuremberg trials. In this uneven production, Naujocks – all oily smiles, cognac, and swirling cigarette smoke – re-creates the operation as grand theatre, alluding to our complicity as docile and gullible voyeurs.

Among those whose bodies were left behind were that of Honiok (Tom Wells) who had Polish sympathies. Others were anonymous prisoners of Dachau and here they are revived and given names and lives to lose. They are wry Jewish teacher Birnbaum (Charlie Archer) and petty criminal and anti-Semite Kruger (Rowan Polonski), naively patriotic to the end. Archer and Polonski provide the most nuanced performances of an evening consisting mostly of archetypes.

The conceit is rich in potential – stick three contrasting figures in a cell, give them an occasional stir by the provocative Naujacks (a lupine Dan Parr) and then set them raging against the dying of the light. But the three never have time to evolve much beyond their prescriptive origin stories, the script lacking rhythm and momentum in director Charlotte Cohn’s ambitious but over fussy production.

The play is presented as a series of academic explorations of war – from polemics on anti-Semitism, to the role of God on the battlefield – issued as pleas from clueless pawns in a global conflict.

The prisoners, whose performances are rigorous and well-constructed, hold out the tantalising hope that they might break free from their oratorical straitjackets and become rounded characters, but this promise is too frequently snatched away in the rush to hammer home some on-the-nose point about Hitler being a bad sort.

The final scenes are affecting – the clever use of lighting (by Ryan Joseph Stafford) being one of the stars of the show. And the image of a press photographer posing bodies brings us smack up to date with evocations of Abu Ghraib and the shocking iconography of degradation.

Ultimately, though, the play demands less of us than the subject matter should insist upon.

CANNED GOODS

Southwark Playhouse Borough

Reviewed on 20th January 2025

by Giles Broadbent

Photography by Mark Senior

Recently reviewed at Southwark Playhouse venues:

THE MASSIVE TRAGEDY OF MADAME BOVARY | ★★★ | December 2024

THE HAPPIEST MAN ON EARTH | ★★★★★ | November 2024

[TITLE OF SHOW] | ★★★ | November 2024

THE UNGODLY | ★★★ | October 2024

FOREVERLAND | ★★★★ | October 2024

JULIUS CAESAR | ★★★ | September 2024

DORIAN: THE MUSICAL | ★★½ | July 2024

THE BLEEDING TREE | ★★★★ | June 2024

FUN AT THE BEACH ROMP-BOMP-A-LOMP!! | ★★★ | May 2024

MAY 35th | ★★★½ | May 2024

SAPPHO | ★★ | May 2024

CAPTAIN AMAZING | ★★★★★ | May 2024

WHY I STUCK A FLARE UP MY ARSE FOR ENGLAND | ★★★★★ | April 2024

SHERLOCK HOLMES: THE VALLEY OF FEAR | ★★½ | March 2024

POLICE COPS: THE MUSICAL | ★★★★ | March 2024

Canned Goods

★★★

“a high-spirited affair that the cast dive into with relish, commitment and enviable energy”

Gustave Flaubert, the champion of realism, spent five years writing “Madame Bovary” only to find himself charged with immorality. Thankfully he was later acquitted, and the notoriety that the trial provoked accelerated the novel’s rise to bestseller status. It is now considered Flaubert’s masterpiece; one that maintains its revered place in literature (its influences have reached the likes of Marcel Proust, Virginia Woolf and James Joyce). Okay, the novel was a touch bleak, to say the least, and we all know that it ends in tragedy. John Nicholson might be exaggerating the magnitude of the misery by prefixing his retelling of the story with the word ‘massive’. And he might be missing the point by unashamedly turning it into a farcical comedy. By his own admission, Nicholson has ‘lovingly derailed’ the story. Interpret that how you will. After all, theatre is all about free expression, and this play is very free with it.

The story of the cuckolded country doctor and his frustrated, pleasure-seeking wife is turned on its head as it wields its slapstick and wry exposition with such force that the fourth wall has no chance of standing. Even a sabotaged attempt at changing the ending is allowed into the edit. The result is a stew of French and Saunders, Blackadder and Upstart Crow, with a generous side order of pantomime. It is a high-spirited affair that the cast dive into with relish, commitment and enviable energy. Georgia Nicholson, as the ruffled Madame Bovary seeking amorous adventure, is surrounded by the whirlwind threesome of Stephen Cavanagh, Ben Kernow and Darren Seed who play at least a couple of dozen other characters. The story begins at the end with Madame Bovary recounting her life story to a pair of ratcatchers who have arrived in the village of Yonville. At times it is almost like a speed run. A ‘Potted Panto’ performed by ‘The Reduced Flaubert Company’.

Buried deep in the silliness are strokes of ingenuity. Kirstie Davis’ staging is slick and precise. Beneath the mayhem there is a reliance on accuracy of movement and timing, which the actors are well practiced at. Grace Murdoch’s movement and choreography is an extended conjuring trick, albeit one that seems to have wandered in from the set of ‘The Play That Goes Wrong’. Like the jokes, the influences are manifold, and the bawdy humour does become relentless and predictable. Nevertheless, the versatility of each performer shines through as they switch characters and costume at lightning speed.

You cannot help but admire the irreverence. Their approach to Flaubert’s text is embodied when, at one point, one of the ratcatchers exclaims “you took the words out of my mouth… but in a different order… and with different words”. There is a clear echo of Eric Morecambe’s famous line brilliantly delivered to André Previn. The bravery of this company matches its tongue-in-cheek audacity. In his mausoleum in Rouen, I’m sure Flaubert must be grinning, even if it can’t quite conceal an expression of open-mouthed bemusement. Over in Southwark, the audience seem to be of a similar opinion. Between moments of bewilderment the laughs come thick and fast (though as a grin rather than the out-loud variety) in this risqué, eccentric and anarchic comedy.

CANNED GOODS

Southwark Playhouse Borough

★★★

“The final scenes are affecting – the clever use of lighting being one of the stars of the show”

CANNED GOODS

Southwark Playhouse Borough

Reviewed on 20th January 2025

by Giles Broadbent

Photography by Mark Senior

Recently reviewed at Southwark Playhouse venues:

Canned Goods

Canned Goods

Canned Goods

THE MASSIVE TRAGEDY OF MADAME BOVARY

Southwark Playhouse Borough

★★★

“a high-spirited affair that the cast dive into with relish, commitment and enviable energy”

THE MASSIVE TRAGEDY OF MADAME BOVARY at Southwark Playhouse Borough

Reviewed on 9th December 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Tanya Pabaru

Previously reviewed at Southwark Playhouse venues:

THE MASSIVE TRAGEDY OF MADAME BOVARY

THE MASSIVE TRAGEDY OF MADAME BOVARY