Jack Studio Theatre – until 26 October 2019
Reviewed by Claire Roderick
5*****
So It Goes modern take on Herman Melville’s classic novel is a triumph. Douglas Baker’s adaptation condenses the story into an action-packed 80 minutes that adds a 21st century worldview but still celebrates Melville’s prose and themes.
The use of projections, designed by director Douglas Baker, is sublime, creating a jokey, almost pantomime style backdrop for some scenes and then providing the claustrophobic tension of the best submarine movies. Beginning with old Ishmael confused with the corporate jargon nonsense in a coffee shop is an inspired and light-hearted way to voice the famous first line from the novel and makes clear the 21st century take on the story, and Baker boldly leaves the audience with a stunning but puzzling visual that doesn’t pay off until the final moments of the play.
A cast of four means that the story focuses on the main characters without side-tracked by other characters’ ruminations and premonitions, sharpening the focus and quickening the pace of the play. This also means that it is Ishmael who gets saved from a sticky ending inside a whale’s head, leading to a gag-inducing bonding moment with his rescuer, Queequeg. (The audience members around me may have just been groaning at the sperm jokes – but I have actually been covered in the body fluids of a rotting whale and the horrific stench came back to me during that scene, so thanks for that flashback.) The whaling boat scenes are hilariously and repetitively choreographed, pitting man against beast in a seemingly eternal battle to the strains of Europe’s The Final Countdown.
Old Ishmael (Rob Peacock) narrates the story as his younger self (Ben Howarth) joins the crew of the Pequod. Howarth’s naive and slightly drippy Ishmael is a joy to watch alongside Peacock’s older, damaged version of the character. The exasperated shouts as Young Ishmael corrects his older self’s Victorian use of the word fish don’t lose their appeal. Stephen Erhirhi’s Queequeg and Lucianne Regan’s Starbuck are impressive, and Charlie Tantum makes Ahab terrifying but pathetically comical with his ridiculous limp. Under some of the spotlights there’s a striking resemblance to Doctor Evil, but this doesn’t detract from the portrayal of a monomaniacal character who refuses to turn away from a disastrous course of action, and instead of making him appear strong, highlights his weaknesses and narcissism. The ease with which we can relate Ahab to modern politicians fits in perfectly with Alex Chard’s sea shanties attacking corporations, pollution and social media, and Baker’s sobering use of Melville’s theme that the joke is on us as we continue to destroy the planet. This is a masterclass in modernising and revitalising a classic – grab a ticket while you can.