★★

“Milla Clarke’s slowly revolving set reflects a narrative going round in circles”

Set in the not-too-distant future, Takuya Kato’s “One Small Step” depicts a society where colonising the moon has become a practical reality. The scenario throws up many questions, some of which are touched upon in this short two-hander from Japan, but the focus of the story is very much rooted in present day, down-to-earth problems within the confines of a conventional marriage. The premise is a fascinating one, but ultimately it doesn’t really go anywhere. It’s all very well setting your sights on the moon, but you need to figure out the launchpad first.

Takashi (Mark Takeshi Ota) and Narumi (Susan Momoko Hingley) are a married couple working for a major company that is establishing a city on the moon. They share, with a touching yet naïve idealism, a wide-eyed enthusiasm at being part of humanity’s ‘fresh start’. Perhaps it’s because their own relationship needs a fresh start, as they spend the next hour bickering inconclusively. The mundane swiftly progresses to the central dilemma of the narrative. Narumi is pregnant, which puts her involvement in the forthcoming moon-shot in jeopardy. Cue the tried-and-tested, quasi-intellectual debates about abortion, the rights of women (and men), the right to life, corporate attitudes to maternity, careerism.

Narumi cannot seem to make up her mind about anything as Hingley plays tug-of-war with her character. We never really know whether she intends to keep her baby or not, but unfortunately, we cease to care. Little wonder then that Ota’s Takashi ends up in a whirl of schoolyard frustration. The discussions they repeat are pretty puerile given the subject matter. As the couple orbit around each other we expect them to gradually get closer, but there is little chemistry between the two and the inward spiralling of the script is claustrophobic. Milla Clarke’s slowly revolving set reflects a narrative going round in circles. At one point a robotic floor cleaner is seen surreptitiously scuttling around; presumably to sweep up dialogue that has fallen flat.

Somewhere in there is a gem of a story. It is the stuff of dreams, quite literally. Some may argue that the dream is closer than we think, but whatever way you look at it the textural landscape is a goldmine. “One Small Step” even has a cow on the moon (I wonder if it jumped over it first), which bizarrely mirrors the elephant in the room for the play’s protagonists. There are moments of humour in Kato’s script, which the actors do successfully seize upon. We want more of this – the lightness of touch lends more weight to the message, and we pay more attention.

A live camera feed projects the actors in close-up onto overhead screens. There is perhaps a reason for this beyond the bandwagon that Kato (who also directs) has jumped on. But, like the other choices made, it is lost in translation. We should be getting lost in the story but, as much as the pair’s fine performance draws us in, we are kept outside of their inner circle. Which is a shame as the issues are universal.

The moon belongs to nobody (despite the American flag up there). For now, at least, it belongs to anybody. The dreams, stories, ambitions and desires it has inspired belong to everybody. “One Small Step” has the potential to latch onto those visions, embracing the human problems inherent in mankind’s grand objectives. Yet it remains a small step, and needs more thrust to achieve lift off.

THE GARDEN OF WORDS at the Park Theatre

★★★

“There are fine moments of humour amidst the stylisation in director Alexandra Rutter’s production”

It is a brave undertaking to lure London audiences into the theatre this summer with the promise of a show that features an awful lot of rain. It is also a brave undertaking to adapt a Makoto Shinkai film. Shinkai – animator, filmmaker, author and graphic artist – is responsible for some of the highest-grossing Japanese films of all time with his idiosyncratic and recognisable animations. But both are challenges that ‘Whole Hog Theatre’, specialists in Anglo-Japanese theatre, are not shying away from with the premier of “The Garden of Words”.

It focuses on Takao Akizuki (Hiroki Berrecloth), an aspiring teenage shoemaker and Yukari Yukino (Aki Nakagawa), a mysterious older woman he keeps meeting in the public gardens of Shinjuku City. It is the rainy season, beautifully evoked by the video projections, lighting, sound and stylised movement of the actors. There are echoes of Jacques Demy (it could almost be dubbed ‘The Umbrellas of Tokyo’), and traces of David Lean’s ‘Brief Encounter’ when the couple meet – courtesy of Mark Choi’s soaring piano soundtrack. But the overall sensation is of being drawn into a Japanese ‘anime’ art film. The merging of styles creates a profoundly hypnotic atmosphere, but one that clouds the emotional connection we would have liked to have had with these characters.

It is a simple, soft love story that subtly touches on the taboo. Takao is still a teenager while Yukari is a teacher from his school. Although their meetings are accidental and innocent. At least initially. They only meet when it rains. A literal and metaphoric ingredient for the blossoming of their friendship. They are both isolated in their own way. Back home, Takao’s divorced mother (a bubbling and eccentric Susan Momoko Hingley) is more concerned with her love life than her family, while his brother (James Bradwell) is fleeing the nest in pursuit of actress girlfriend Rika (Iniki Mariano). Like Takao, Yukari is also skipping school, having been hounded by false accusations from her students, the prime culprit being Shoko (a very watchable Shoko Aizawa). Trying to appease all parties is gym teacher Soichiro (Mark Takeshi Ota).

There are fine moments of humour amidst the stylisation in director Alexandra Rutter’s production (who co-adapted with Susan Momoko Hingley). But also, some superfluous moments of repeated movement that, although eye-catching, could be pruned. In the first act it occasionally loses its balance, like riding a bicycle too slowly. In contrast, the second act rushes to its epilogue as if an afterthought, and the interval was an unscheduled mistake. The enchantment would have kept its flavour better if concentrated in a one act performance. Otherwise, the essence of the anime art form remains as true as it can be. It recognises its limitations, and doesn’t try to overstep the small-scale setting with its vivid, slightly surreal and delicate combination of creative expertise.

KENNY’s video graphic projections work hand in hand with Cindy Lin’s set. The Japanese Garden almost origami like, comprising fringes of paper that depict both the city’s skyline and the weeping leaves of the trees. In turn they become the rain, then the tears of these lost souls who “feel they may die from the agony of love”: one of many quotations projected overhead. Passages from ‘The Man’yōshū’, a compilation of Classical Japanese poetry from the eighth century, are a recurring motif that informs the narrative, and assists the audience. Like the rain.

In fact, the rain is quite relentless. A leitmotif that adopts many shades and meanings. In the world that these characters inhabit, rain is something that people who suffer from social isolation can prefer more than the sun. “The Garden of Words” exposes the fragility of emotions born of loneliness and longing, yet just falls short of gripping the heart. The other senses are left basking in the downpour though. It is a treat to watch, even if we don’t quite connect. It is an apt synchronicity that while the characters onstage are ‘praying for the rain’, we most certainly aren’t. Especially this summer.

ONE SMALL STEP at the Charing Cross Theatre

★★

“Milla Clarke’s slowly revolving set reflects a narrative going round in circles”

ONE SMALL STEP at the Charing Cross Theatre

Reviewed on 1st October 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Mark Senior

Previously reviewed at this venue:

ONE SMALL STEP

ONE SMALL STEP

THE GARDEN OF WORDS at the Park Theatre

★★★

“There are fine moments of humour amidst the stylisation in director Alexandra Rutter’s production”