On tour until 14 February 2020
Reviewed by Claire Roderick
5*****
Cardiff’s The Other Room take their trio of dark and disturbing plays on tour, giving those of us unable to get to Cardiff a glimpse of the brilliance of the venue’s output.
American Nightmare
5*****
High above Manhattan, Greg (Chris Gordon) is being wined and dined by Clara (Ruth Ollman) as she offers him a mysterious business opportunity. The America around them isn’t that far removed from that of today, and the rich and powerful look down on the broken country and chaos as society breaks down, knowing that they can find profit in chaos. Clara’s deal and motives sound dodgy immediately, but she plays Greg like a cobra, drawing him in, despite his horror until he must choose between morality and money. The actors dance around each other engagingly, with Ruth Ollman making Clara more and more inhuman behind the fixed smile with every remark, and Chris Gordon charmingly nailing Greg’s British awkwardness in the face of such American certainty and forcefulness.
Meanwhile, in a military bunker, two desperate Americans have entered a mysterious programme, training physically and mentally for an unknown purpose. Southern boy Elwood (Gwydion Rhys) seems to know about the programme – he knows “a guy” – but Daria (Lowri Izzard) just wanted to be somewhere with food and a bed after time spent on the streets dumpster diving for food. With implants in their arms that monitor their stress levels and turn the lights over their beds from green to orange, the pair form a loose alliance to get through the tests, as the longer they keep their scores up, the longer they can stay. This isn’t out of friendship, more that they don’t see each other as a threat. The two actors bounce brilliantly off each other as the balance of power subtly shifts and their final scene together is shocking and stunning.
As the action switches between the bunker and Manhattan, the idea of how the powerful can programme the weak to accept and do unconscionable things to survive is explored in graphic detail, by turns witty and horrific. Matthew Bulgo’s startling script is in safe hands with director Sara Lloyd ensuring that every word and action is meaningful right up to the inevitable but deeply disturbing conclusion. Just brilliant.
The Story
5*****
X (Siwan Morris) has just returned to the country after spending a year as an aid worker, her wife is waiting for her, but she has been pulled aside for questioning. Beginning with a seemingly affable interview with V (Hannah McPake) “a Voice of the people” with a questioning style not unlike Catherine Tate’s teenaged characters, everything seems fine, with X bold enough to correct V’s use of “annexed” territory with “occupied” throughout. But there’s a problem with her story, and she is detained for further questioning.
Tess Berry-Hart’s frightening story plays with the idea of narrative and how people’s truths can differ under the state paranoia and demonising of the other to control the population. As X’s interrogations continue, every face she sees is V, but V doesn’t remember meeting X before – is this the truth or part of the torture? As X becomes less and less certain of her story, various incarnations of V describe the process of interrogation as a dance, where V is the only one who knows the steps, and demonstrate how easy it can be to deconstruct a story and reassemble it into a more pleasing form using a chair. The confusion and horror on Siwan Morris’ face as X is slowly worn down is heart-breaking, but there are still moments of humour even in X’s darkest hour, hooded and shackled, as a well-meaning volunteer straight out of a Victoria Wood sketch turns up, allowing Hannah McPake even more scope for her fantastic characterisations. A particularly satisfying ending highlights the cyclical nature of abuse and power, leaving the audience exhausted but thrilled.
Hela
5*****
Mari Izzard’s gripping play begins with a man tied to a chair in a tiled room. The sliding doors open and a cheery young woman enters, speaking Welsh. He can’t understand, so she turns on a translator – Myfanwy – which displays English translations throughout the play. This clever inclusion of surtitles is unobtrusive and feels perfectly logical and natural as the play absorbs the audience. The man is Hugh, the son of the recently dead Welsh First Minister, but Erin doesn’t reveal her reasons for keeping him prisoner until their cat and mouse game has played out a little longer. In a near future where algorithms determine criminal investigations, Erin’s search for justice has become a hunt, revealed with powerful impact as she fully opens the doors. But what has Hugh got to do with her son’s disappearance? And at what point do Erin’s actions become as unforgivable as those of the criminals she is hunting, no matter her motive? Lowri Izzard and Gwydion Rhys are phenomenal as the two protagonists, with sympathy switching from one to the other as the details of their lives and actions are slowly revealed. Izzard switches effortlessly from childlike glee to menacing in an instant, and Rhys is a twitching bundle of nerves, portraying the animal fear and visceral need to escape in an outstanding physical performance.
It was refreshing to see a bilingual play with the use of language feeling natural and realistic, and Hugh’s increasing use of the language he spoke with his long dead Welsh mother as he became more exhausted and emotional is a shrewd choice. A powerful and devastating play, with two unforgettable performances.
Tour Dates:
Theatre 503, Battersea 15 – 18 January
Ffwrnes, Llanelli 23 – 25 January
Theatr Arad Goch, Aberystwyth 29 – 31 January
Theatr Clwyd, Mold 6 – 8 February
Pontio, Bangor 12 – 14 February