Tag Archives: Summerhall

LYNN FACES

★★★

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

LYNN FACES at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe

★★★

“a provocative piece that isn’t quite ready for primetime”

Laura Horton’s new play, Lynn Faces, is a raw take on a woman who is on the verge of turning 40, and trying to escape from a coercive relationship. For protagonist Leah, this means forming a punk rock band with two of her friends and an unknown drummer, and hiring the local bingo hall for the band’s first performance in front of an audience. The group is named Lynn Faces, after Lynn, the long suffering PA in TV’s Alan Partridge Show. It’s an engaging set up, but taken as a whole, this play fails to deliver on its initial promise.

Lynn Faces relies on the audience to know who “Lynn” is. And also to understand why a large stuffed cow might fall on top of the drummer. References to the Alan Partridge Show are littered throughout, beginning with the appearance of the band in Lynn masks, and “snazzy cardigans.” We learn that Leah, prompted by best friend Ali (vocals, keyboards) once went around with a camera asking random people to put on “Lynn faces” so she could photograph them. That’s how she met ex-partner Pete who she is attempting to exorcise by forming a punk band. If all this sounds a bit confused, that’s because it is. Lynn Faces jumps around from being a punk band with actively bad musicians and even worse songs (based, you guessed it, on catch phrases from the Alan Partridge Show), to a woman on the verge of middle age having a breakdown.

Madeleine MacMahon as Leah, Peyvand Sadeghian as Ali, and Holly Kavanagh as Shonagh are all talented actresses. Playwright Horton makes a surprise appearance on drums. She appears late in the show playing the mysterious drummer Joy, before being felled by the aforementioned cow. The team make good work of establishing their characters, often with the bare minimum of dialogue. The antics between tough talking Ali and the innocent crafter and teacher Shonagh generate enough energy to crochet Lynn Faces together when Leah’s breakdown threatens to stop the show in its tracks. But the biggest energy drain on the show is not Leah’s breakdown, and her refusal to call ex-boyfriend’s behaviour for what it is. The show lacks the raw energy of punk to drive it forward because the musicians are terrible. Even though they’re supposed to be. Without authentic punk energy, however, this show threatens to be just a patchwork of snazzy cardigans and pearls, fishnet stockings and tartan trousers. Without punk, there’s no power to fry coercive boyfriends on the spot. Pete lingers instead offstage, or as a minuscule avatar back projected with gaslighting phone texts that trigger Leah’s traumatic memories.

Lynn Faces is a provocative piece that isn’t quite ready for primetime. Sometimes one’s favourite TV show can be a distraction from the main event. Punk, on the other hand, is an instrument for reclaiming power. Even if we have to fake it. The redemptive power of punk is the real story in this show. And despite the weaknesses in the plot, Horton’s imagination shines through. With some rewriting, and some genuinely good musicians who know how to play really bad music, Lynn Faces could be a winner.


LYNN FACES at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe – Summerhall – Main Hall

Reviewed on 25th August 2024

by Dominica Plummer

Photography by Dom Moore

 

 


LYNN FACES

LYNN FACES

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MY MOTHER’S FUNERAL: THE SHOW

★★★★★

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

MY MOTHER’S FUNERAL: THE SHOW at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe

★★★★★

“The prowess of Jones’ writing and Charlotte Bennett’s direction is unique and utterly refreshing”

My Mother’s Funeral: The Show is a crucial and stunning piece on trauma mining in the arts. Based on the experience of losing a loved one and discovering the expense of death unjust, Kelly Jones writes a masterpiece that challenges the notion that dying is the great leveller. A breath-taking meta-theatrical triumph: this performance follows 24-year-old Abigail as she desperately pitches and writes a play about her mother’s (very) recent death. When a stranger turns to you at the end of the show in tears letting you know they intend to immediately ring their mum, you know the performance has done its job.

Playwright Kelly Jones presents a stunningly honest voice on the issues of how the arts industry treats trauma and social commentary. Jones delivers a powerful and poetic script that skips between tearjerkingly direct experiences of navigating the death of a close family member and trying to respect a dead relative’s wishes. The complexity of her writing is brilliantly clever and pulls the audience in from the moment Nicole Sawyerr (playing Abigail) takes to the stage. Sawyerr gives her all to the performance, holding the audience tightly in the palm of her hand.

As a microphone takes centre stage, as does our grief-struck protagonist. Moments where Abigail takes the mic on her feelings work beautifully into the meta-theatrical premise of the show and the sound production flies in support of it. Touching on themes of gentrification, demonisation of the working class, and estranged family relationships, My Mother’s Funeral touches nerves with the utmost composure and tact. The throughline of commentary on the divide between working class communities and the arts industry is sharp and so very needed. As the show holds a mirror to its paying audience, gasps and tears and laughter are elicited from the audience.

The staging (Rhys Jarman) is dynamic and drives the creativity of the show. Similarly, the gorgeous lighting (Joshua Gadsby) and sound design (Asaf Zohar) are as electric as the knife-edged acting. Samuel Armfield (playing Abigail’s brother and a particularly distasteful theatre producer) and Debra Baker (playing Abigail’s mum, healthcare professionals and an ignorant actor) multi-role phenomenally. The two flawlessly switch between different accents and well-crafted physicality. The direction is tasteful, thoughtful and comedic from beginning to end. This show catches you howling with laughter one second and wiping tears away the next in well-earned moments of emotional tension. Armfield and Baker’s supporting roles combine to pressure the devastation and rage of Sawyerr’s acting as her voice echoes both forcefully and delicately into the space. In particular, the climax of the show is directed with terrific effect, highlighting the pathetic hypocrisy of marketing trauma in theatre at the expense of real people.

My Mother’s Funeral breaks down what it means to write from your own experience to receive financial gratification from others. The prowess of Jones’ writing and Charlotte Bennett’s direction is unique and utterly refreshing amongst an arts landscape that is so readily available to sacrifice its creatives for the sake of entertainment and shock value. The perspective this show provides and its innovative delivery and conception is deeply essential.


MY MOTHER’S FUNERAL: THE SHOW at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe – Roundabout @ Summerhall

Reviewed on 23rd August 2024

by Molly Knox

Photography by Nicola Young

 

 


MY MOTHER’S

MY MOTHER’S

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