Jack Studio Theatre 27 June – 15 July. Reviewed by Claire Roderick
In the land of our fathers, it’s the buried sins of our mothers that destroy our dreams. Wales in the 1980s wasn’t the most optimistic of places, with the death throes of the mining industry and rising unemployment leaving many families and communities in desperate trouble. Sid, Boyo and Gwenny live with their mother in a forgotten town, where the only hope of employment is labouring at the new open cast mine. As the cast creeps nearer to their house, the family refuse to leave, and mam’s eccentricities become increasingly worrying. Told by mam that their father left and went to America when they were young, Sid and Gwenny become obsessed with leaving, and build an idyllic vision of what life in America would be like. Their discovery of Kerouac’s Life on the Road leads them down a nauseating spiral of escapism and fantasy that ends in tragedy. As Sid and Gwenny play at being Jack and Joyce, quoting lines and acting out parts of the book, Boyo can only watch in disbelief and rising horror as he sees his fragile sister disappearing before his eyes. Meanwhile mam’s episodes become more sinister, with talk of blood on the walls, as buried secrets are unearthed.
All very cheerful, but there is a huge amount of dark humour and laugh out loud punchlines in Ed Thomas’s often poetic script. There are moments of wonderful absurdist humour – most memorable being mam in Welsh bonnet eating a bowl of imaginary cawl – gentle riffing philosophy, and shocking violence. Just like a night in the rugby club really. There is a more positive global image of Wales nowadays, but the scars of mining are still deep, and the story is as relevant today as it was in the 80s as austerity bites and communities face financial uncertainty.
The Welsh cast (so no dodgy accents here) are completely believable as this tight knit family. You wouldn’t want to live next door to them, but the cast manage to keep the characters sympathetic even when they are carrying out unconscionable acts. Pete Grimwood and Evelyn Campbell are devastating as Sid and Gwenny, and Robert Durbin will break your heart as Boyo, as his strength gradually crumbles as he realises what has been going on. Lowri Lewis as mam is fantastic – in turns pathetic, defiant, sweet and impish – and convinces as the matriarch determined to keep her family together at home at any cost.
The set is dark and grim, with clever lighting design isolating characters without the need for long scene changes and ramping up the feeling of claustrophobia as the play progresses. My only gripe is the delicacy of the sound effects. An open cast is LOUD. Maybe if the blast siren and explosions were at a more realistic level, the claustrophobia and fragility of the house and family would be even more palpable?
An assured, thought provoking and compelling production, House of America is well worth a look.