Michael Cox's first full day of the festival is spent in Traverse Two and reviewing My Romantic History, The Girl in the Yellow Dress, Speechless, The Author and While You Lie.
Whether it’s by design or not, the five productions playing in the Traverse Two space carry a similar theme: the power of words. And while there isn’t one bad production amongst them, it is still a bit of a mixed bag.
As the Traverse alternate the performance times of its programme, the day will always look different.
For me, it began with My Romantic History (****), a play by Scotland’s D.C. Jackson. Set in an office, the play is a classic ‘he said, she said’ tale. Two work colleagues hook up, and each not only explains the events of the relationship through their own eyes but also give the audience a brief look at their past loves.
There is absolutely nothing original about the play, but it is played so earnestly, contains a joie du vivre that is almost contagious and has such a good heart, especially when the story comes from the female protagonist’s viewpoint, that it is hard to resist. It also grows up a bit in its second half and decides to take a refreshing look at how pertinent past relationships can be to new ones. It is wonderfully theatrical, with a cast of three playing over a dozen characters and staging that makes brilliant use of the Traverse Two space. Other films, books, plays and TV programmes may have done it better, but it is still quite funny and well executed.
The Girl in the Yellow Dress (****) is a bit more serious. A two-hander set in Paris, the play follows five grammar lessons between an English expatriate and her refuge student.
The odd thing about Dress is that the production’s script is both its best friend and worst enemy. Yes, there are twists, but none of them are totally unexpected, and the characters are not the most compelling. However, there is such a love for the English language, both in its lines and within its structure, that it is next to impossible to not be taken by it.
It is also well executed. Malcolm Purkey’s direction is quite lively, finding many great ways to not only carry the story forward but in creating images and moments that are exciting, shocking and at times highly erotic. It also has two great performances in Marianne Oldham as the teacher and Nat Ramabulana as the student.
Speechless (***) feels like a great missed opportunity. It follows the true story of two teenage girls who became isolated from everyone else by only speaking and communicating with each other.
The frustrating thing about the production is how pedestrian the story feels. Rather than focusing primarily on the girls and their rather fascinating life, it instead chooses to spend time with teachers, psychiatrists, the bad boy next door and their mother, all of whom are interesting but not the main point of focus. The staging is usually fine with some rather good moments and the performances are quite good.
But if this production deserves to be remembered for anything, it is for the brave performances given by its two leads. Natasha Gordon and Demi Oyediran are an absolute tour de force, and their interlocked performances are so passionate, touching and frankly human that it is hard not to be moved. They manage to make an adequate play into a compelling piece of theatre, and for that they should be commended.
By far the best production is also probably going to be the one to spark the most outrage. The Author (*****) is a brilliant and original look at the power, and responsibility, that theatre has, not only to society but to its very audience.
I find it impossible to write a full review of the play for the simple reason that to give anything away, from structure to cast to even running length and a description of the set, would take away from the experience. Just know that the play will make you laugh and think, provoke numerous responses and just might actually get under your skin, perhaps even to the point of outrage.
The Author is theatre at its most brave and immediate, and it is bound to cause rage as much as inspire. I know that there will be people who walk out, maybe even demand their money back; just as I know that there will be others who will see theatre and the art of performance in a new light and be inspired. It is for these reasons that I stand by what most will probably think is a generous amount of stars.
The final production of the evening was, for me, also the most disappointing. There is no getting around how much the Traverse is putting into While You Lie (**). It is their baby, so to speak, and it is the new work of Sam Holcroft, who caused a big splash with her premiere play Cockroach a few years back. It is also directed by Zinnie Harris, a celebrated writer in her own right.
And it isn’t necessarily bad. Holcroft has a talent for structuring scenes that feel electric. But the play, about five self-obsessed people who are going through a number of personal, sexual and financial crises, is hard to get too worked up about. Many of the scenes work rather well on their own, and many of the beginning moments hold much promise, but what starts as a play full of ideas and intrigue falls into many ridiculous clichés and over-the-top moments that aren’t earned.
It’s a pity, because the production values are actually quite good. Harris has staged the production well and has a cast of five that are willing to play along. But in the end, it is Holcroft who lets everyone down. Such a pity, as it really should have been an excellent conclusion to a rather impressive first full day for me.
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