Recent Articles
Showing posts with label loz keystone. Show all posts
Showing posts with label loz keystone. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 27, 2016
Wednesday, July 27, 2016
- 0 Comments
A.C. Smith's Phoebe is an odd little play populated by characters that're slightly, but not entirely, skewiff. It's part of #Festival46, a showcase for work from some of the most promising new talents, meaning you get interesting and experimental works with the odd rough edges. Phoebe is very much that: a show that contains umpteen great things, but never gels quite as firmly as it should.
The eponymous Phoebe (EJ Martin) is an awkward young woman of indeterminate age. The youngest of three siblings, she works in an opticians and can't quite seem to find a place in the world. Her parents are overbearing, her older sister Ingrid (Louise Torres-Ryan) is consumed with work and, most worryingly, her older brother Freddie is missing. He's left his job, his emails go unanswered and his house is vacant. His mysterious disappearance consumes Phoebe, who decides to play detective and find him.
On top of all that Phoebe has made friends with an urban fox (also named Freddie) who's been disturbing neighbourhood bins. This raises the hackles of her nosy neighbour, who launches a campaign to snuff out Freddie. With the fox culling specialist en route, time is running out for both Freddies.
Along for the ride is the similarly awkward Paul (Loz Keystone) a flighty young fellow who's been hanging around the opticians trying (and failing) to pick out a new pair of specs. He's clearly enamoured with Phoebe, though both are too socially clumsy to confess their feelings for each other.
We experience the story through Phoebe's eyes, the other two actors cycling between different characters as the story demands. These characters tend towards the grotesque: her Mum a barely sane nervous wreck, her Dad casually domineering, her neighbour a manipulative harpy, the foxcatcher a swaggeringly masculine dickhead and so on. Kindness is in short supply in this world and, though the staging is minimal, through an effective ambient soundscape we sense the oppressiveness of the urban environment.
That makes the tiny moments of kindness all the more effective. Phoebe's care for the fox, transplanted from that her of absent brother, is beautifully communicated. As is Paul's goofy sweetness, best exemplified when he gifts Phoebe a book and the moment he holds her hand for the first time.
It helps that all three actors put in top notch performances. Loz Keystone, as well as having a marvellous name, has comic timing so precise it may as well be laser-guided. Every single moment he's on stage he's doing something funny, from the casually misogynist exterminator to his gentle, nervy would-be boyfriend. He exhaustively mines every last atom of comedy from the material, singlehandedly responsible for the lion's share of the laughs.
Great though he is, it's EJ Martin who provides the emotional core It's fascinating to watch her react to the other characters: half sussing them out, half confused at how they could behave so wickedly. Her changes in facial expression are almost microscopic - curling her lip with disappointment as someone apparently betrays her, or smiling at a tiny moment of triumph. She manages to be both vulnerable and faintly scary at once - no mean feat!
There's a bevvy of great theatrical moments here - their effectiveness only somewhat diluted by some iffy scripting choices. There's a needless bit of fourth wall breaking early on that should have been left on the cutting room floor (though this may have been an adlib), the parents err somewhat too far on the side of unbelievable and the sister appears to be undergoing constant mood swings - one minute she's cold-hearted, the next warm.
Despite that, Phoebe is an undeniably promising piece of writing. It's a sensitively, imaginative told story that, with eyes squinted, feels as if it could be a contemporary, adult take on Roald Dahl. Though it began at half nine and ended sneaking up on 11pm I deeply enjoyed myself. Can't wait to see what AC Smith does next.
★★★
Phoebe is at the King's Head Theatre until 30 July. Tickets here.
Saturday, June 27, 2015
Saturday, June 27, 2015
- 0 Comments
Set within fragments of a gigantic picture frame, lit with warm sepia-tinged light and spattered with long-dried paint, the set of Asking Rembrandt believably drags its audience back to well-used studio in 17th century Amsterdam. This is the setting for Steve Gooch's exploration of art vs commerce, told through a year or so in the life of Rembrandt.
We meet Rembrandt (Liam McKenna) at a difficult time. He's an established master craftsman producing a steady stream of work - every well-to-do mokummer wants a Rembrandt hanging above their fireplace. Problem is, they want a portrait as status symbol rather than to appreciate Rembrandt's artistry. As such they pepper him with demands and alterations - his experimental leanings squashed under the popular idea of what a Rembrandt painting is. Now he's got a reputation as difficult, when clients are splurging hundreds of gilders for a portrait, figuring 'the customer is always right'.
His personal situation only adds to his woes. Following the death of his wife Saskia he's taken up with former maid Henni (Esmé Patey-Ford), their unmarried status causing the disapproving church to publicly brand her as a "whore". The rest of his personal relationships are similarly rocky; his son Titus (Loz Keyston) bridling under his father's ego; and John Six (John Gorick) doing his best to keep their friendship sliding too far into business.
Asking Rembrandt's best quality is that it's straightforwardly interesting. Seeing Rembrandt, whose name has become is a byword for 'master painter', as a conflicted, indebted and stressed craftsman instantly humanises him. You might think that you'd struggle to relate to the interpersonal and financial worries of a 17th century Dutch painter, but very quickly we understand and empathise with him.
That's down to skilful writing, backed up with what I assume is an awful lot of careful research. It's also equally due to wonderfully earthy performance from Liam McKenna. This Rembrandt is a fleshy, sturdy, deeply proud character - almost Falstaffian in his body language and behaviour. Some of the finest moments are when he talks dirty, telling Henni that he'd like to "lick her like a bear with its tongue in a honeypot". Oh Mr Rembrandt, I've come over all a-flutter!
Rembrandt's sexual and artistic confidence goes some way to the art vs commerce debate at the centre of the play the much needed emotional dimension. We can see why his partner loves him, why his best friend wants the best for him and why his son (despite his protestations) craves his father's respect. By about the halfway point we're invested in what Rembrandt is doing, rooting for him to be able to express himself without financial and social shackles.
Despite those successes, there's a sense of slightness in Asking Rembrandt. Coming in at a svelte 75 minutes we whistle through time at breakneck speed. For example, at the close of one scene Henni informs Rembrandt that she's pregnant, the next scene she's 8 months in and a couple of minutes later the baby's arrived. This makes the secondary characters into satellites orbiting Rembrandt rather than people in their own right. Perhaps the biggest victim of this is his son Titus, who gets a few short scenes to define his character.
Similarly, though the emotional dimension is welcome, the play does eventually boil down to a slightly dry argument on the compromises an artist must make to put food on their table. As I said, this is definitely interesting, but it settles on massaging the brain rather than trying to whomping you in the heart.
Asking Rembrandt is (as is standard for the Old Red Lion) a technical success. The set oozes personality and the soft lighting subtly recalls Rembrandt's aesthetic. The cast are similarly top class: McKenna the obvious star attraction but Patey-Ford's Henni is impressively full of joie de vivre, managing the impressive feat of making a 17th century dutchwoman's costume rather coquettish. Despite these positives, I never quite felt involved in proceedings, admiring the play from a academic distance as opposed to losing myself in its rhythms and passions.
★★★
Asking Rembrandt is at the Old Red Lion until the 18th of July. Tickets here.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
