Michael Cox reviews Lippy, Exhibit B, Return to the Voice and The War.
What is theatre? What elements do you need in order to be considered ‘theatre’ above something else? What makes a production successful?
These are questions that grow perplexing the more you ponder them, so much so that artists, critics, academics and audiences continuously ask them. I have theories and ideas, many of which I’ve taken from both my own experience and from reading respected practitioners. That’s one thing I love about attending the Edinburgh festival season: I find myself continuously challenged, by the good and the bad.
Take Lippy (**), a theatrical reaction to a true-life mystery in Ireland. Four women barricaded themselves in a house and starved themselves to death. Why? No answers were given, even if clues were dotted around the house after their bodies were discovered.
I’ll credit playwright Mark O’Halloran for refusing to come up with a possible ‘solution’ to this perplexing puzzle. Instead, O’Halloran’s script looks at the mystery itself and how it might affect someone close to the case, which feels like a fair reaction. Directors Ben Kidd and Bush Moukarzel have created a production that looks stellar and is well staged, and the company of actors are equally great.
So, why does it not work? For me, it’s down to the fact that the production is too lopsided and comes across as voyeuristic. The play is split in three parts, all tied together by Dan Reardon’s Lip Reader. He fits into the first part, a post-show discussion for a production we don’t actually see, but as no video of the women’s bodies were used as evidence, why is he haunted by the crime scene, which makes up the second part. Witnessing the women suffer in their house is downright unbearable at times, and most of it plays out as a surreal nightmare. As for the final section—the reading of a letter found at the site via a video projection of lips—the production becomes intrusive at best, and feels just plain misguided at the worst.
Maybe the theatrics of Lippy are impressive, and the performances are definitely great all around, but the production in the end feels more morbid than anything. We see and hear about suffering and it feels like we are, in the end, intruding on these poor women’s lives. Yes, there might certainly be a great production to be found in this sorry event, but even with impressive theatricality, Lippy just isn’t it.
Something that also looks at the bleak but is far more successful is Brett Bailey’s unforgettable Exhibit B (*****). Is it theatre? Well, in the classic sense of character, plot and setting, the answer is no. But with its use of live performers and promenade staging, I’d say it’s half exhibit, half theatre. Finding a convenient label for this is a moot point; what is key is the experience that it creates, and in that, Exhibit B just might be one of the most potent political statements I have ever encountered.
So, what is Exhibit B? It is a ‘living zoo’ that shows how the west has plundered Africa, exploiting its resources, its animals and, most frightening of all, its people. It is haunting. It is heart-breaking. It is infuriating. When leaving the exhibit you have to walk down a staircase decorated by portraits of old white powerful-looking men. It took all the humanity in my heart to not rip them down and punch a hole through each face. Maybe not the reaction the creators intended, but I cannot think of anything else I’ve experienced in recent history that has affected me as much as this. I still don’t know how I managed to leave without collapsing on the ground in tears. It is hard going, but it is also essential.
Song of the Goat Theatre is responsible for some of the most memorable productions I’ve seen on the Fringe. Songs of Lear remains one of the greatest adaptations I’ve seen of a Shakespearean play, and Chronicles: A Lamentation still haunts me a decade later. They are an acclaimed company the world over, and any time they premiere a new work expectation is high. The fact their latest production has Creative Scotland and Summerhall backing makes the anticipation here for Return to the Voice (***) all the more potent.
Perhaps expectations were too high for this, but the main question I had when leaving the performance was: is this theatre? The company in the past have created productions that had an excellent mix of musicality and theatrical staging, yet this is a very beautifully sung 90-minute concert in two parts.
Make no mistake: the music is utterly beautiful and extremely well-sung, even if most of the lyrics are all but impossible to completely grasp. And yet, the production is missing the element of theatricality that impressed, save for its use of venue: St Giles Cathedral. A few performers have highly animated faces, but baring changes in standing order that’s about as active as it gets.
There’s absolutely nothing wrong with Voice. It is a well-executed choral production with beautiful music. But without a context for any of the songs and a lack of the dramatic, this production feels a bit shallower than previous Goat productions. In short, it’s missing that theatrical zip Song of a Goat is famous for, which is the one thing this beautifully sung piece needs.
Lack of theatricality is not something one can accuse The War (***) of suffering from. The play is a harsh look at the effect war has on people. A group of privileged artists are seen conversing in Paris before the outbreak of World War I, arguing over the merits of war. The death of one of the artists, George, has repercussions for this group, and after the war they come back to make sense of this loss by partaking in drama games through the guidance of a doctor.
The play, which draws parallels to The Iliad, is hard going—in more ways than one. Performed mostly in Russian and Greek and with a running time of nearly three hours with no interval, watching the production is a test for anyone’s patience. The technical execution is highly impressive: people fly, sound is amplified and distorted, multitudes of coats drop from the ceiling and a chandelier is climbed on. In many ways, the staging feels grandiose, almost operatic in nature. And yet, the material itself feels like it should be much more intimate. It’s a chamber piece that has been bloated in every conceivable way.
Which is a shame, because, as impressive as all of the flashing lights and moving scenery proves to be, the human component is all but lost. Only George comes across as fully human, but even that excellent central performance is all but drowned in the bombast of the staging. Not quite The War to Stay Awake, but by no means A War to Remember.
Lippy performs at the Traverse (not Mondays) until August 24. Exhibit B is at the Playfair Library Hall (not 14, 18, 21) until August 25. Return to the Voice performs at St Giles Cathedral at various dates and times until August 25. The War’s run is complete.
Exhibit B and The War are part of this year’s Edinburgh International Festival.
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