Tag Archives: Tristan Bates Theatre

Mortgage
★★★

Tristan Bates Theatre

Mortgage

Mortgage

Tristan Bates Theatre

Reviewed – 15th April 2018

★★★

 

“bristling with a rottweiler-level energy, but is matched by a tone of unfocused anger and bitterness”

 

Mortgage is a challenging piece of theatre – in every sense of the word. This devised piece from the minds of the renowned David Glass Ensemble and Created a Monster (with writing also credited to David Glass) is itching to provoke some deeply pressing conversations, while also being too frustrating in its design to fully wrangle with its own thesis. As such, it presents itself as something unpolished and messy, but despite this there is an urgency and forcefulness to the show that holds you in an unforgiving vice grip.

At this point in the review I’d normally provide a brief plot synopsis, but it’s difficult to know where to even start with Mortgage. The show initially consists of two doctors in drag (François Testory and Simon Gleave) attempting to treat the eponymous Mortgage (Briony O’Callaghan) through a series of vignettes incorporating various forms of movement, violence, and magic, tonally feeling like grotesque versions of Monty Python sketches. This then somewhat clunkily segues into a huge and unnecessary exposition dump as Mortgage explains her backstory, which jars with what came before, and slows the momentum to a crawl by placing the focus on what happened instead of what’s going to happen until finally, we end up in another sketch of sorts that seemingly tirades against actors, theatres, and audiences. There’s very little cohesion between these moments and it’s never quite clear why they’re being presented on stage to us.

But one can’t help but wonder – was that the point? When the creatives involved are so esteemed, when the action on stage is so visually striking, when the performances are so vocally and physically committed, it’s easy to ponder whether the disjointed nature of events is founded in an intentional desire for theatremakers to spoon-feed less to the audience, and for the audience to infer their own meanings from the art they consume. Perhaps there is actually an undercurrent of genius to the madness.

Even if there were admirable intentions behind Mortgage, though, the execution of them feels unsatisfying. It’s bristling with a rottweiler-level energy, but is matched by a tone of unfocused anger and bitterness – if David Glass and the company were trying to say something, it isn’t said with any clarity, and is instead lost behind a mire of perplexing theatrical choices. You’re never quite certain what Mortgage is, who it’s for, or why it’s been made, and yet it will still manage to keep you captivated for its runtime – it’s a case of style over substance, but the style is present in droves.

Reviewed by Tom Francis

Photography by Gavin Maunsell

 

Mortgage

Tristan Bates Theatre until 20th April

 

Last ten shows reviewed at this venue:
Echoes | ★★★★★ | August 2018
Love Lab | ★★★★ | August 2018
Butterfly Lovers | ★★ | September 2018
The Problem With Fletcher Mott | ★★★★ | September 2018
Sundowning | ★★★★ | October 2018
Drowned or Saved? | ★★★★ | November 2018
Me & My Left Ball | ★★★★ | January 2019
Nuns | ★★★ | January 2019
Classified | ★★★½ | March 2019
Oranges & Ink | ★★ | March 2019

 

Click here to see more of our latest reviews on thespyinthestalls.com

 

Oranges and Ink
★★

Tristan Bates Theatre

Oranges and Ink

Oranges and Ink

Tristan Bates Theatre

Reviewed – 28th March 2019

★★

 

“Any subtlety is lost in the maze-like opacity of Restoration English”

 

You can easily see why Aphra Behn would be the subject for a new historical play: not only was she the first female writer in England to be paid her dues, she is also credited with having written the first novel (no, it was not ‘Robinson Crusoe’!) and, to top it off, she was gay. A young, professionally and sexually liberated woman in the seventeenth century- the ideal historiographic candidate.

However, much like her male counterpart Defoe, her writing is understandably dated and very hard to get through; you’re better off considering her achievements historically than actually delving in to her works. ‘Oranges and Ink’, Claire Louise Amias’ story of Aphra Behn and famous actress Nell Gwyn, unfortunately takes its style of story-telling from Ms Behn’s plays themselves. Any subtlety is lost in the maze-like opacity of Restoration English, as are most of the jokes, and the ones we understand are very ye-olde ‘bawdy’- not really for a modern audience.

Regardless, Sarah Lawrie (Nell Gwyn) shows a knack for comic acting, and whilst as I say, most of the jokes are lost, we at least know they’re being told – like watching a foreign comedy. Similarly, Claire Louise Amias (Aphra Behn) shines best in moments of emotional sincerity and it’s clear she would excel in a meatier role. If only she had written herself one.

William Summers’ musical arrangement, in keeping with the period (lots of lute and flute), is pleasant enough, and Alex Pearson’s direction sees both actors trying effusively to engage with the text, moving spiritedly around the stage and leaning in to the few moments that the audience might actually understand and enjoy.

It is a feat for a contemporary play to be written in the lexicon of the seventeenth century, but unfortunately Claire Louise Amias’ efforts are lost on a modern audience. All in all, the fair amount of talent in this production could certainly be put to better use.

 

Reviewed by Miriam Sallon

Photography by Bruce Wang

 


Oranges and Ink

Tristan Bates Theatre until 6th April

 

Last ten shows reviewed at this venue:
The Cloakroom Attendant | ★★★ | July 2018
Echoes | ★★★★★ | August 2018
Love Lab | ★★★★ | August 2018
Butterfly Lovers | ★★ | September 2018
The Problem With Fletcher Mott | ★★★★ | September 2018
Sundowning | ★★★★ | October 2018
Drowned or Saved? | ★★★★ | November 2018
Me & My Left Ball | ★★★★ | January 2019
Nuns | ★★★ | January 2019
Classified | ★★★½ | March 2019

 

Click here to see more of our latest reviews on thespyinthestalls.com