Tag Archives: Tom Ratcliffe

BREEDING

β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…

King’s Head Theatre

BREEDING at the King’s Head Theatre

β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…

“McStay’s dialogue is electric”

Breeding succeeds in finding a rare balance of sparky wit and thought-provoking poignancy.

It follows a gay couple as they navigate the steps in the adoption process. It’s a three hander – charming, flirty Zeb (Dan Nicholson) kind, anxious Eoin (Barry McStay, who’s also the writer) and their social worker (Nemide May) who becomes far more tangled in this couple’s life, than any of them expected.

It’s slickly directed by Tom Ratcliffe. Short snappy scenes are punctuated with upbeat music and smartly rearranged colourful blocks.

McStay’s dialogue is electric, cleverly painting the nuanced dynamics between the couple and their respective views on fatherhood. For me, the ending was too neat, and there were a couple of moments which felt particularly convenient, but the strength of the characters pulls through these slightly obvious beats.

 

“Nicholson shines as Zeb and the chemistry between him and McStay is delightful.”

The play is informative about the adoption process, emphasising the shocking levels of scrutiny potential parents are put under. It steers clear of feeling didactic but is an interesting insight for those who aren’t aware of the intensity of the process.

Nicholson shines as Zeb and the chemistry between him and McStay is delightful. They are fully realised, complex characters whose relationship feels truthful and compelling. May is strong as Beth, though it is a difficult part, as so much of her role is facilitating the drama, not being at the centre of it.

Ruby Law’s set is fun and clever. The wall is painted in block primary colours, with pages from the adoption workbook printed onto them. Three of the coloured blocks, which make up the movable set, have light up neon numbers – helping to clarify each of the three stages of the adoption process. It’s well thought out and joyous, with a sharp undertone – in keeping with the play itself.

This was my first visit to the new King’s Head venue, which opened earlier this year and is a far cry from the familiar back of the pub space which we all knew and loved. This is a more sterile, glossy theatre, but crucially with a larger, more versatile performance space. If Breeding is anything to go by, it marks an exciting new era for the space and I look forward to seeing what else is coming up.

 

BREEDING at the King’s Head Theatre

Reviewed on 25th March 2024

by Auriol Reddaway

Photography by Ed Rees

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

TURNING THE SCREW | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | February 2024
EXHIBITIONISTS | β˜…β˜… | January 2024
DIARY OF A GAY DISASTER | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | July 2023
THE BLACK CAT | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | March 2023
THE MANNY | β˜…β˜…β˜… | January 2023
FAME WHORE | β˜…β˜…β˜… | October 2022
THE DROUGHT | β˜…β˜…β˜… | September 2022
BRAWN | β˜…β˜… | August 2022
LA BOHÈME | β˜…β˜…β˜…Β½ | May 2022
FREUD’S LAST SESSION | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | January 2022

BREEDING

BREEDING

Click here to see our Recommended Shows page

 

Wreckage

β˜…β˜…β˜…

The Turbine Theatre

WRECKAGE at The Turbine Theatre

β˜…β˜…β˜…

Wreckage

“Rikki Beadle-Blair directs with a flair that matches the heightened narrative”

 

In Anthony Minghella’s film β€˜Truly, Madly, Deeply’, Alan Rickman’s character returns from the dead specifically to help Juliet Stevenson get over him by tarnishing her idealised memory of him. As a ghost, he irritates her and behaves in ways that infuriate her. In Tom Ratcliffe’s β€œWreckage”, now playing at the Turbine Theatre, a similar concept is deployed, but without the poignancy of Rickman’s intention. The two characters, dead or alive, seem to spend a lot of time irritating each other, dredging up past (and future) frustrations and misdemeanours. Although in between there are abundant declarations of love and we eventually understand that the shouty tantrums are, in effect, signifiers of grief.

Ratcliffe’s script is finely crafted and chronologically complex, moving between the past, present and future. Sam (Tom Ratcliffe) and Noel (Michael Walters) are in the perfect relationship. Noel, being older, more laid back and assured, is often the one to smooth out Sam’s rattled and jumpy mind. This is established at the outset during which Noel agrees to rush out on an errand to placate Sam, grabbing the car keys, promising to be back in twenty minutes. The scene, and its tragic consequence, is played out multiple times, reflecting the torturous β€œif only…” reaction that loops in Sam’s mind – possibly forever.

Separated by death, the couple become paradoxically inseparable and what ensues is an exploration of guilt and grief. Ratcliffe effectively portrays the torment of how to cope with loss as he battles with what to cling on to and what (or rather when) to move on. The β€˜reality’ of Noel’s ghost in his mind is powerful enough for Noel to take over and control the narrative. The passion brought out in the performances is undeniable, but any true sense of heartbreak is undermined by a complete lack of subtlety. We long for more poignancy and silence amidst the shouting and screaming and writhing.

Despite a reluctance to tone down the performances, Rikki Beadle-Blair directs with a flair that matches the heightened narrative, and with the clever use of video projections and Rachel Sampley’s lighting we are guided clearly through the shifts in time. We witness the couple meeting for the first time, and we are privy to posthumous revelations of infidelity. The influence of in-laws and wranglings of property and possessions are explored in an ingenious fashion by the writing, casting fresh perspective on what would normally be a run of the mill relationship. We are asked to think, and to challenge our preconceptions about how we might cope. But ultimately, as compelling as it is on paper, the emotional connection is left wanting.

The idea is not new, but the execution is innovative. The tag line is β€œI love you I love you I love you I love you I love you”. Sam is young when he loses the love of his life and he goes on to live a long, fulfilling life. The message is that β€˜love never dies’, and they will eventually be reunited. In a hurried finale, we are treated to a slideshow of Sam’s three-score-years-and-ten that lead up to their reunion. It is a lifetime, during which Sam does move on. But is he living a lie all along?

β€œWreckage” draws you in, and whirls you around in its turmoil with two (for the most part) terrific performances. But it is strangely unmoving. Petulance too often pushes grief out of the way, while the mixed message gets in the way. The character you most feel for is the underwritten Christian – Sam’s new, lifelong, partner (very briefly played by Walters). He puts up with Sam for life, while all along Sam is yearning for the day that he can join Noel again – for eternity. Really? Come on – you spent most of your time arguing!

 

 

Reviewed on 11th January 2023

by Jonathan Evans

Photography courtesy Harlow Playhouse

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

My Son’s A Queer But What Can You Do | β˜…β˜…β˜…Β½ | June 2021
My Night With Reg | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | July 2021
Diva: Live From Hell | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | August 2022

Click here to read all our latest reviews