Arcola Theatre 2 – 27 May. Reviewed by Claire Roderick
The employees of a multi-national company are never on an equal footing. Most people will have noticed a “Made in …” label and had momentary flashes of guilt imagining dreadful working conditions, shuddered, and got on with their day. Alexandra Badea takes a look at four people around the world, and the dehumanising effects of globalisation on their lives.
None of the characters have names, simply titles. Their overlapping monologues are punctuated by twitching, tortured movements before collapsing to the floor, strewn with pulverised rubber. The set, with various items of broken office furniture poking through the rubber and a damaged wall, was reminiscent of a slag heap, adding to the symbolism of discarded humanity. The timelines and connections between the characters are not clear at first, but the narrative pieces together neatly, although a good 20 minutes could have been shaved off the play to make it a little more coherent.
Richard Corgan’s Quality Assurance of Subcontractors Manager (yep, he didn’t know what it actually meant either) flies around the world making deals and passing judgement. His disorientation and disconnect is initially kept at bay by inane webcam conversations with his family and other webcam activities with “angelofthenight05”, but the conditions he sees at the Shanghai factory finally shatter his illusions about human kindness and love.
One of the workers in the factory is Rebecca Boey, whose life is broken down into moments of time, sequences of movement, and measurements to keep her sane. The company announcements she repeats are hysterical in their brutality – “If you don’t apply yourself to your job today, you’ll be applying for a new job tomorrow!” Workers are fined for leaving the production lines to go to the toilet and sleep in cramped dormitories, but the young girl finds solace in calligraphy at night – enthusing poetically about freedom and wonder.
At the company’s call centre in Dakar, one team leader (Solomon Israel) is full of ambition and snobbery. Even his church has a pecking order of seating. Wearing his fake Versace suit, he spouts corporate nonsense at his team, and cannot understand their resistance to using French names when they answer the phone. He even insists that the canteen serves French dishes, not Senegalese. His initial gleeful connivance in dodgy cost cutting methods comes back to haunt him, and his comedic antics that have delighted the audience suddenly turn sour.
In Bucharest, a Research and Development Engineer (Kate Miles) is busy preparing a presentation for Corgan’s character. She neurotically keeps an eye on her baby and the babysitter on her laptop, and there is a wonderful sequence of opening computer programs as if she was conducting the Mozart piece playing in the background. The measure of how bad her day becomes is the food she chooses. Beginning with gluten free bread and vegan sandwiches, she ends it with microwave ready meals as even her satnav turns against her.
The cast are all impressive, with Miles and Israel having the showiest, funniest roles. They all show their characters’ defeat and despair with subtle well-judged performances and keep the audience engaged throughout.
Lucy Phelps’ translation is fizzing with evocative language and humour, and The Pulverised is a fine attempt to shine a light on the human cost of globalisation. Well worth a look.