“The play is a fiendishly clever piece of writing, served brilliantly by a formidable company”
They say it’s the quiet ones you have to watch out for’, or ‘never trust a smiling cat’. Although not perfect in their analogy, it would be a similar phrase that describes how we feel walking away from Isley Lynn’s new play “The Swell”. Lynn’s writing is deceptively artful and astute, crafty yet judiciously crafted. She has that rare gift of duping us into thinking we are on safe ground, but then abruptly pulling that ground away from under our feet.
Conceived five years ago as part of Hightide’s summer writing festival, director Hannah Hauer-King has helped steer the piece towards its premiere at the Orange Tree Theatre. Her close attachment shows up in the crisp and sensitive staging of the text. Specifically played in the round there is nowhere really to hide; a challenge that is embraced. When not directly involved in in the action, the characters are still ever present; in shadows, watching, chanting or silently echoing the unfolding drama centre stage.
The “Swell” in the play’s title refers variously to the crest of a wave, the metaphorical rush of blood to the heart when in love, or the rising of a chorister’s chest. But also, to the swelling in the brain of a blood clot that can cause a stroke – which informs the bulk of the brilliantly executed shifts and twists that shape our understanding of the characters’ journeys; their motives, relationships and deceptions.
The action shifts between then and now. Annie and Bel are seemingly in love, preparing for their wedding. Until Flo – a childhood friend of Annie’s – crashes into their lives with predictable results. Suffice to say the wedding never takes place. Jessica Clark fires Flo’s spirit with an energy that races ahead of her bubbly free spirit. Saroja-Lily Ratnavel, as the young Annie, veils her emotional scar tissue with taut jitteriness that borders on violence, while Ruby Crepin-Glyne’s rootless Bel is caught in the slow dance of domesticity, aching for the tempo to change. Sophie Ward, Shuna Snow and Viss Elliot Safavi are the girls thirty years later. The extraordinarily accomplished performances tease out the intervening backstory with an understated intensity that boils beneath the gentle simmering. It feels like a caress, but all along it is scorching us.
The play is a fiendishly clever piece of writing, served brilliantly by a formidable company of actresses. You cannot avoid the fact that queerness runs through it like marble. However, like Brokeback Mountain for example, the fears and prejudice sadly still experienced are addressed without coming across as a piece of queer writing. Sexual identity is not being scrutinised, yet questions and assumptions of personal identity are thrillingly exposed and cannily upturned.
The literal and the figurative walk hand in hand. Imagine them walking through a rather predictable romcom, but then they turn a corner and are ambushed by a psychological thriller. One in which lies come in all shades of white, and betrayal can be the kindest act. The mood is underpinned, though not particularly enhanced, by Nicola T. Chang’s a Capella vocal score. The essence lies within the dialogue and the drama, and swells into a fine fusion of writing and performance.
“an intriguing adaption and a creative and unique piece of digital theatre”
Two households, both alike in dignity. Those famous lines are how Shakespeare’s most well-known tragedy usually begins. Except in this interactive online version, I find myself on a Zoom call alongside a great many households, watching live as the fight kicks off between the two feuding families.
One of the key selling points of this fun and fresh reinvention of a much-loved classic is the interactive element – where the audience can make decisions about the characters’ fates. For my first choice, I have chosen to be a Montague, and so I begin the play witnessing the initial street brawl between the two sides and then dashing off to see Romeo (Kofi Dennis), Mercutio (Dharmesh Patel) and Benvolio (Harmony Rose Bremner) preparing for their night at the Capulets.
How to stage a play on Zoom is a question many theatre companies have grappled with over the past year and designer Ryan Dawson Laight and director Natasha Rickman have come up with a worthy and bold solution. Performing individually, the actors swim onto brightly-coloured ghostly backgrounds, where characters overlap each other and become both big and small. After a short adjustment period, it soon becomes immersive – an ethereal and inviting experience.
As we enter the party and meet the Capulets, the story moves swiftly on to another Zoom call, where our hero meets his Juliet (Annabelle Terry), but is also pursued by the watching eyes of Tybalt (Sebastian Capitan Viveros) and Lord Capulet (Graeme Rose), setting the familiar chain of events in motion.
Then it is back to the company’s website, where the choice-making element of the production truly begins, interspersed with pre-recorded scenes. As well as the decisions – laid out on tarot cards – there are also valiant attempts to engage with the Zoom audience and to add a bit of personalisation to the performance. These additional bits are interesting, but it is hard to add very much new material to such a well-trodden story and I am often unsure how much impact each decision I make has.
I hope it is not a spoiler to say that, despite my choices and the combined efforts of Sister Lauren (Clare Humphrey, as a gender-swapped Friar Lawrence) and the nurse (Katy Stephens), I do not manage to save the star-crossed lovers. But there are hints throughout the production that a more discerning viewer might be able to…
Along with the staging, the combined efforts of music and sound (Matt Eaton) and movement and choreography (Simon Pittman) work well for the fight and dance scenes, but perhaps less so for the love scenes. The actors largely adapt happily to the digital realm, with some stand-out performances. Kofi Dennis as Romeo is particularly good, embodying all the angst and passion you would expect from the young hero. And Dharmesh Patel brings an ominous, almost-creepy air to Mercutio that works surprisingly well. Support from the rest of the cast (Giles Stoakley, Vera Chok, Viss Elliot Safavi, Lola Boulter and Andy Owens) also adds depth to the performance.
With all of its additional elements, this Romeo and Juliet is an intriguing adaption and a creative and unique piece of digital theatre.
