Jack Studio Theatre – until 25 March 2023
Reviewed by Claire Roderick
4****
Mari Lloyd’s poignantly funny play about two teenagers trying to find their way in an unforgiving and uncertain world is a real treat. The arrival of Yasmin, who would rather live with her Nan in this small Valleys town than with her parents in Cardiff (not far geographically, but worlds apart for the older generation), has dramatic consequences for Rhys, an aspiring boxer.
Rhys’ mum has gone, but his father cannot stop living in the same routine, buying fish every Friday until the freezer is full, and communicating mostly through Post-It notes with his son. After sitting his A levels, Rhys gets a job in the big Aldi to earn some money while he trains and prepares for his big chance to impress a boxing trainer from Cardiff.
Yasmin, expelled from a private girls’ school in Cardiff, knows she has aced her exams and follows her Nan’s advice to get some volunteering on her CV for university admissions. She begins working in the care home and finds out that Rhys’s mum is one of the patients, and Rhys has never visited her. She also becomes fascinated with boxing, and begins to campaign for women to join the boxing gym, seeing a little too much of Rhys’s best mate Chris for his liking. Rhys sees all of this as a huge intrusion on his life, especially his one safe place of escape – the gym – and becomes increasingly suspicious and belligerent towards her.
Emma Kaler is beautifully nuanced as Yasmin, strong and sharp on the surface but always on the move, trying to find the way to escape her feelings and very funny as she quotes the mantras of Enzo Calzaghe as if he was a prophet. Phillip John Jones is wonderful as Rhys – sardonic and naïve at the same time, and keeping the audiences’ sympathy even when he is being a prat as his layered performance never leaves you in doubt that Rhys is holding something back and has no healthy release.
Director Julia Stubbs skilfully takes Lloyd’s smart script and interweaves the stories of the two damaged teenagers seamlessly, eventually explaining where all of the anger, defensiveness and fear is coming from as the narratives shadowbox with each other – both actors only talking directly to the audience until their accounts collide in a moving and cathartic encounter where they finally face their past and stalled futures. The characters are brilliantly authentic in their speech, attitudes and humour – before it got a bit dark, it was like being back home listening to my young cousins. The dialogue is insightful and touches on many social and mental health issues without being issue-led and the sense of place is evident even on Rachel Rooney’s minimalist set resembling a ropeless boxing ring. Warm and funny, with two excellent performances, Still Here is hugely enjoyable.