Mr Burns: A Clever Dystopian Tale So Close to Being Greatby Randi / July 1, 2021It’s Theatre Thursday! Today’s show is the recent livestream of The Dumb Waiter from The Old Vic’s In Camera series.
Man, I feel like over the years I have seen every Pinter play (and piece of Mahler’s) and every time I’m like “…yeah okay.” Like I GET IT (do I?) he’s a genius and they’re all classics (really?) but it’s just…not my thing. The Dumb Waiter reinforced my whole ‘I mean sure’ vibe about Pinter.
The Dumb Waiter is widely considered one of Harry’s best shortypops, and I did appreciate that it was only about an hour long. The four-hander (that’s right) stars the very fine duo of Daniel Mays and Daniel Thewlis (who we enjoyed in Harry Potter and the Dude who Turns into a Werewolf) as two apparent hit men who wait in a prison cell-like room for instructions on their next target. I’m not the biggest fan of hit men, so at the start it’s an uphill battle for me to care about anything besides wondering if someone else in their universe could turn them in without using or glorifying the role of cops.
Instead of that, we had these two jackwagons sitting, reading the paper out loud, pacing, &c. And then they hear something in the wall and it’s a working dumbwaiter! Like for moving food between floors! Fun! Houses should have these! They start receiving messages – an envelope under the door, and then an order through the dumbwaiter. They’re like ‘well we don’t have any of these items’ so naturally they send back up whatever snacks they had on them. LIKE, WHY. I guess this humorous turn is kind of funny but the nonsense of it felt inconsistent. The men keep communicating with an unseen someone at the other end of the dumbwaiter, without really knowing who it is or what’s going on. Who is giving the instructions? Where are these messages coming from? These and more question will not be answered and will stand in for deep meaning!
I guess the whole twisty point of what, not knowing who you can trust? the destructiveness of power? everyone suffering under an unjust system? could have worth, but it had the emotional impact of a faux-motivational poster without supporting material helping any maxim feel earned. It kind of felt like Pinter trying to be Beckett. A loose plotline, slow pacing. a bit convoluted. As ever, I feel like Pinter plays are best appreciated by people who say ‘wow it really makes you think’ in a way that lets you know they have no idea what they are thinking.
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Islander at the Southwark Playhouse: This Mystical Folk Musical is the Strongest in London Right Now
I can’t even pretend to do my usual joking around or easing in to the review with a funny story or quip. Islander, the new Scottish folk musical at the Southwark Playhouse, is a perfect show. It’s flawless. There’s not one line, one beat, one twist of the story that isn’t purposeful, genuine, and portrayed with an artistic verve that I haven’t seen in a UK-bred work in ages. This tiny little amazing show, performed in the Southwark’s ‘Little’ room, a claustrophobic black box theatre, is showing up every major West End musical right now with its intriguing, unique sound and its captivating story. You all know how much I adore pointing out the things I would fix or change in shows to make them tighter, deeper, better/faster, higher, stronger. That’s my favorite thing, to consider how I could take a good show and make it great (or a bad show and make it watchable). The only thing I can even think of for Islander is that they moved this black trunk, the only set piece, around a lot for no real reason. THAT’S IT THAT’S ALL I GOT.
Straight from this summer’s Edinburgh Fringe, where it won a Best Musical award, Islander (conceived and directed by Amy Draper) is a four-hander (see previous posts; change approved) telling of life on a remote Scottish island from the perspective of a young girl (Bethany Tennick) named Eilidh (not how I would have spelled ‘Alie” either) and, well, everyone else she comes into contact with (Kirsty Findlay). Eilidh’s quiet, secluded life bursts open to fascination, first when she discovers a beached whale calf, and then when a mysterious young girl arrives on Kinnen (I’m going to be spelling everything wrong, okay? those accents are HARD) claiming she’s from the mythical floating island of Settesea. The connection between the two visitors is other-worldly, thrilling, and keenly conveyed, like Islander as a whole. But the way they get this supernatural, mythical storyline (with a book by Stewart Melton) to seem completely grounded and believable makes this show truly brilliant. At times it feels poignant and political, a commentary on perhaps our own Brexit struggles. At times it feels like a coming-of-age story (complete with a pretty funny way to portray a phone ringing.) At times it feels like a small town drama with all the frustrations and problems you’d expect. And it all works together.
The friendship between the two girls amid this vibrant portrait of life on the remote island, completely with a wide range of well defined characters, are all impeccably done. Findlay’s ease in dipping in and out of the various characters she inhabits is a masterclass in character and voice work, like watching a young Tatiana Maslany but live on stage (and if she were an amazing singer). Together with Tennick’s wide-eyed innocence as Eilidh, the two create a thriving town of believable, indelible characters with nothing but their own talent. No sets, no real costumes, no props, just the words they’ve been given and what they can do with them.
And what they do with them is made into magic with the distinctive musical sound created by Finn Anderson. His music is beautiful and often moving. And the way it’s performed is the key here. The two performers create an immersive sound using a soundboard with looping technology, so we see them in real time take one phrase of sound and add on and on and on until they’ve created an entire world of incredible music informing all aspects of this seaside village life. The two are both wonderful, truly talented singers, but they do so much more than sing. They create the sound of water dropping from a dilapidated ceiling, they create the sound of a turbulent storm, they create the sounds of whales and the sounds of angry crowds and they somehow know exactly what buttons to push to get it all to record and stop and start flawlessly and I got confused just trying to watch what buttons they hit and how it worked and I was like WHAT IS HAPPENING THIS IS MAGIC for the entire 70 minutes.
Like a famous predecessor from the Fringe, if there is any justice this show should Fleabag its way into the consciousness of the entire civilized world. It’s beautiful, magical, and absolutely enchanting (and not as raunchy/unsuitable for watching with your family). This is the musical I’ve been waiting to come out of the UK since Matilda, a remarkable show that I can’t find any fault with. Islander ends its run at the Southwark on Saturday but with any luck will continue somewhere else.
INFORMATION
The show is 70 minutes but like all London theatres nowadays, they hold the curtain until every latecomer has arrived, which I cannot stand. I will pay extra to the theatre that starts the show when it says and tells latecomers YA BASIC. Also throw people on their phones out, okay? That’s the theatre I want. Anyway this audience was pretty great. It’s hard to be rude when you are in the round and everyone can see you!
The Secret Society of Leading Ladies: A Fun Choose-Your-Own-Adventure Concert
Today’s show is a video stream presented by the Barn Theatre, available from today until March 7.
The Secret Society of Leading Ladies tries to make the pre-recorded multi-performer concert experience a little more engaging and a little more cohesive, by letting viewers decide which leading lady characters and songs will be part of their unique concert combo. Conceived of by Barn Theatre’s Ryan Carter, the show aims to create a world where our beloved (for the most part) characters somehow exist together, know each other, and take turns at the mike. With each viewer deciding their own setlist, the concept lets us make the experience as enjoyable as possible, while also catering to our lockdown-worsened attention spans.
The show definitely succeeds on the engaging front: Choosing what song you get to hear next is almost giddy fun, and exerting that kind of control in a show is pretty rare. (It’s also kind of a gift from the creative team to give us control over anything at this time, like they are doing more than therapists can. Anyway…) The production quality of the choose-your-next-player interactive menu was quite impressive, and you have plenty of time to weigh your options and decide if you’re more in the mood for a song from Ghost or Fame. I also liked that they showed pictures of each performer along with the song title in the choosing menu, so you can also decide based on performers you know and like and want to hear.
As for the cohesiveness, however, that was a disappointment. The idea that all these famed musical theatre characters were somehow at this venue together, aware of who the others were, and part of some secret society didn’t really gel, since – because of lockdown restrictions – they couldn’t really film conversations among the performers. (They tried a little bit to show them chatting (filmed and shown one at a time), but the pacing was as awkward as the commentary.) It would honestly be such a fun show to delve into how these famous characters from all sorts of shows would interact with each other, kind of like the higher-brow version of that Disney picture of all the cartoon princesses having a sleepover that lives rent-free in my head (I want to go to there/be a cartoon princess). But that idea didn’t really gel.
As a plain-old concert, though, it’s a lot of fun. I enjoyed seeing all these familiar faces, some new-to-me faces, and hearing some songs I haven’t listened to in a while in a combination I definitely didn’t hear before.
Because it was essentially a concert, the featured moments favored belting over building characters or telling stories. The sound was a little wonky too, so any pitch problems came through way more noticeably than seemed right. I loved that even where a performance had some issues, the singer always brought it home with a huge belted note at the end, like they knew it almost didn’t matter what came before because most people will just remember a fantastic final note.
Yet as expected in a concert showcase performed by mainly yoots, the show often felt like the belting Olympics in more ways than just big endings, with vocal acrobatics given more consideration than inhabiting a character and telling that character’s story. Of course, it’s difficult to do the latter in just one song, but without much of it, the conceit that these were the characters and not the actors fell flat. “Dyin’ Ain’t So Bad”, performed by Emma Kingston was far and away the highlight, surprising because it’s from a score I’m very familiar with but not toooo fond of (Bonnie & Clyde) and originally sung by one of my favorite clear-voiced performers (Laura Osnes). This was the rare performance that told a story and used belting as a tool to do so, rather than just focusing on belting for belting’s sake. How many times can I say belting in one sentence, wow.
Note that it is quite short – only 5 choose-your-next-performer menus compose the show before the finale; we didn’t even finish eating dinner before it was over. Definitely choose a multi-stream ticket so that you can go back and watch the other performances as well; otherwise, it’s a little too short. Also, since each performer is presented as an option only once per show (regardless if you skipped them in round 1 – they don’t come back in round 4 as an option), the multi-stream ticket would let you watch e.g. two ladies from the same round.
