Recent Articles
Home » Posts filed under the big house
Showing posts with label the big house. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the big house. Show all posts
Thursday, November 16, 2017
Rating: 

Put yourself in the shoes of a teenager who's finally escaped the home of their abusive parents. A childhood of emotional and physical neglect has left you at odds with the world: you have no money; you're unemployable; you're nursing several undiagnosed mental health problems; your council-provided flat is surrounded by drug addicts and alcoholics; and you might have you've got a string of convictions for petty theft breathing down your neck. Everything is terrible and you can't see a way out. Who's going to help you?
GPs have a name for what's wrong with patients who come to them with complaints like these: "shit life syndrome". This sounds flippant but isn't meant to be. Doctors explain that people with shit life syndrome genuinely suffer from physical and mental health problems, but the causes are a knot of economic, social, medical and emotional problems that can't be loosened by a magic pill.
Callum (Aston McAuley), the protagonist of The Big House's Phoenix Rising suffers from a classic case of shit life syndrome. He's your classic angry young man who lashes out because "at least he knows one person is fighting for him". We find him living in an extremely grotty flat, his life punctuated by visits from nosy social workers who seem to just want him to say something upbeat so they can say he's making progress on a form. The one positive thing in his life is that he's a promising sprinter, enough for coach Josiah (Charmel Koloko) to take an interest in him and try to forge him into a champion.
Phoenix Rising is not a very upbeat kind of play and Callum's tale is not a happy one. It's studded with betrayal, nihilism and abject misery - if you're hoping for an uplifting tale of someone beating the odds, go and see something on Shaftesbury Avenue. But if you're up for something a with a palpable sense of reality to it, this provides.
Part of this results from production company The Big House, which works with young people who have been in care (I previously loved their Knife Edge last year). The company was set up by Maggie Norris in 2013 after she learned that almost half of all prisoners under the age of 21 were previously in the care system. This has resulted in a company whose mission statement is to "break this cycle and many others that care leavers find themselves trapped in". Alongside dramatic training, they provide counselling and long-term support to enable marginalised young people to live independently. Phoenix Rising is the finale of one of their projects: developed and performed by the participants alongside a professional writer (in this case Andrew Day).
I'm always a little nervous about seeing plays built on such noble foundations. What if it's rubbish? Critically demolishing a charity production just isn't a good look. But if it was terrible that's precisely what I'd have to do.
Fortunately, Phoenix Rising is great. While the overall story is pretty miserable, the piece is studded with funny moments and charismatic performances. Every actor gets a moment to shine, with particular kudos going to Jordan Bangura, Perrina Allen, Daniel Akilimali and Rebecca Oldfield. Excellent though they are, it's Aston McAuley that really grabs the eye: simultaneously relatable and intimidating, and pitiable and proud.
Callum's story is knitted together from a multitude of observations about life in care, ranging from the cold-blooded trauma of having your children removed from you by court order, to the over-prescription of anti-depressants ("I don't want to look at shit and think it's chocolate ice cream!"), to the alienation of mental health patients, to the indignity of having your entire life bundled into a manila folder for any yahoo at the council to leaf through. Taken as a whole, it feels real, something only bolstered by the sincere and committed performers.
Also shouldering some of this is Maggie Norris' direction and choice of location. The car park underneath Smithfields Meat Market is all stained concrete and crumbling Victorian brickwork, with the dramatic lighting heightening the feeling that these events take place below society's notice. The slight tang of stale piss in some corners of the place contributes to this - it's a rare show that's improved by smelling a bit pissy.
Phoenix Rising comes at an entirely appropriate time. Many of the problems these characters face are directly rooted in the austerity economics of the current Conservative government. Today saw the release of a landmark study in the British Medical Journal that concluded that their cuts to health and social care resulted in 45,000 more deaths between 2010 and 2014 than would have been expected if funding had stayed at pre-2010 levels. Based on these figures, the authors predict that 2015 to 2020 will see approximately 150,000 avoidable deaths due to these cuts. This is plainly described as "economic murder".
Without being preachy, Phoenix Rising shows us precisely what a rubber stamp in a wood-panelled Westminster office does to people's lives. With consequences like these, no wonder so many are suffer from chronic cases of shit life syndrome. Something needs to change. And fast.
Phoenix Rising runs until 2nd December. Tickets here.
Phoenix Rising runs until 2nd December. Tickets here.
Thursday, May 26, 2016
First off, I want to state for the record that I'd have given this show a good review even if it didn't end with a bountiful Hawaiian dinner. But it did and goddamn it was good. I've always had a soft spot for events that come with food; things are much more memorable when you can associate things with a spritz of lemon on the tongue or the crunch of veg between your teeth.
Conceived and produced by production company The Big House, Knife Edge tells the tale of 'The Girl With No Name' (Tezlym Senior Sakutu), an angry young 17 year old on the edge. She's spent her life bouncing between foster homes and hostels, ending up with a gargantuan chip on her shoulder and a deep rooted desire to "fuck shit up!". The only permanent thing in her life is her father Delroy (Dymond Allen), himself just out of a stretch in HMP Pentonville.
As the chorus (James Hogarth) repeatedly reminds us, our heroine is teetering on the blade of a knife. One rash decision and she'll start slowly spiralling life's plughole: first prison, then the madhouse, then the grave. But, off in the distance, distant and flickering, are rays of hope. Can a story like hers really have a happy ending?
You'd like to hope it can, particularly because the cast can find much to relate in her problems. The Big House, established by Maggie Norris, supports young people leaving care, with the cast selected on the basis of need after being referred by Leaving Care teams, the Probation service, Youth Offending Teams and Single Homeless Hostels. For most of this cast, Knife Edge is the first time they've ever acted.
Reviewing a charity run show is often a tricky prospect - you feel like a right arsehole criticising something designed to raise awareness and provide opportunities. Fortunate I don't have to worry about that here: Knife Edge is an absolutely fantastic play and a hugely enjoyable to watch. The tone is anarchic and unruly: characters hilariously bicker with the narrator about their names, break freezes to react to upcoming developments and engage in a kind of auto-critique about the unfairness of mining their lives and experiences to entertain an audience.
![]() |
| Tezlym Senior Sakutu and Dymond Allen (photo by Catherine Ashmore) |
At the core of this is an astonishing performance from first-time performer Tezlym Senior Sakutu, who's got more charisma in her little finger than most actors have in their entire bodies. She fizzes with angry energy, yet subtly works intense, soulful vulnerability into every single scene (she also has enviable comic timing, especially when she emerges ominously clutching a spade...). With characters like this, the show walks its own knife edge - its success reliant on pitching them sympathetic enough for the audience to relate to while still having the 'fuck you' attitude that makes them believable. The show as a whole achieve this, but it's Sakutu that embodies it fullest. Mark my words, this girl is going places.
The rest of the cast are no slouches either. Dymond Allen's Delroy is a warmly paternal presence, responsible for the biggest laughs in the piece. He's an impressive physical performer with a dab hand at broad comedy - it's difficult to keep a smile off your face as he plays out a scene with a toilet seat hung around his neck. Also impressive is Taurean Steele as restaurant owner Ralph (pronounced Rafe) - responsible for tying the social drama and restaurant setting together with a lyrically performed explanation of balance in cookery - as well as playing a brilliant straight man to countless unhappy visitors.
After the drama is wrapped up the dinner begins. Heaping plates of pulled pork, grilled fish and barbecue chicken are served up and table space quickly shrinks under the burden of this yummy goodness. This all smells so mouth-watering that, even as a vegetarian, I had pangs of envy. Still, the veggie option was no slouch - rice, salad and grilled vegetables leaving me unable to take another bite. Ordinarily I'd be a bit iffy about a play being used as a promotional tool for a restaurant, but when the play and food are both this great how could I complain.
Really, Knife Edge is a complete no-brainer. For £20 you get a fantastic play and delicious dinner - each of which is easily worth the ticket price alone. It's a deal like few else in theatre right now, and I'd recommend snapping up a ticket fast before this run sells out. This was one of those nights out in London that make the whole reviewing thing worthwhile - a warm-hearted and excessively talented company brimming over with talent, an audience full of friendly, chatty people and food to die for. What's not to love?
★★★★★
Knife Edge is at POND, Dalston until 12th June. Tickets here.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)



