“Decade”

at Commodity Quay, Saturday 10^th September 2011

Anyone who believes that there are certain issues which art shouldn’t tackle is wrong. End of story. Just as there can be bad art about the most basic of issues, there can also be extraordinary art which tackles the most profound questions. Headlong Theatre has proved that no stone should be left unturned in the quest for truth, representing a wide selection of viewpoints on the World Trade Center attacks. Decade is a provocative, exciting and entertaining piece of theatre which never once shies away from the subject matter.

Rupert Goold has taken a collection of short plays from several writers and meshed them together. One thing unifies them; they all represent in some way an opinion on 9/11, delving into the lives of survivors, widows, historians, nurses and politicians who were affected, directly or indirectly. Lively, pedestrian choreography from Scott Ambler and brash, loud music by Adam Cork mix with Goold’s direction to mirror theatrically the cacophony of voices which fight to be heard. Yet even before we enter the space, the point is made that the voice of authority is always the one which prevails, as we are searched and questioned in a customs-style process – although those in power want these to be the only voices which are heard, the real human arguments cannot be suppressed.

Perhaps the most successful playlets are the monologues. Simon Schama’s Epic and Recollections of Scott Forbes, edited by Samuel Adamson, give the most direct and clear opinions, and are performed as wholly believable lectures by Tom Hodgkins and Tobias Menzies respectively.Ella Hickson’s Gift, about a gift seller who capitalises on the emotions of women after Ground Zero tours, and Harrison David Rivers’  not resentful at all give some humorous opinions on the aftermath.

We are also shown vignettes which highlight how tolerance has been compromised post-9/11. The Odds, by Lynn Nottage, shows Islamic members of the community slowly becoming ostracised, and Rory Mullarkey’s Trio with Accompaniment suggests we are all guilty of prejudice on public transport.

One storyline which runs throughout, Matthew Lopez’ The Sentinels, charts the progress of three women who were made widows by the attack as they meet on September 11th each year. We watch as the years go backwards from 2011 to 2000, seeing how their lives have changed and subsequently asking what life was like before the towers were brought down. The performances of Emma Fielding, Amy Lennox and Charlotte Randle here are mesmerising.

But Decade is far more than the sum of its parts. For, while each play makes a point on its own, it is together that they resonate. The scene changes are among the slickest and most engaging I’ve seen; Ambler’s choreography is seared onto the mind, just like the images of citizens jumping from windows. The final moments include a chilling song created by text messages sent on the day, reminding us of Cork’s recent success in London Road and asking us to feel emotion where before we were asked to think.

Miriam Buether’s design is staggering. We are in Windows on the World, the restaurant at the top of the North Tower. On each end of the room are views of Manhattan, and on another a glass-fronted walkway which is used to great effect. The attention to detail is astonishing; we are even given a menu to peruse before the play begins. It is lit with flair by Malcolm Rippeth, and the dust on the shoulders of Emma Williams’ costumes completes the startling picture.

Decade is collaborative art at its best. Goold brings together a selection of sources which sometimes disagree and sometimes overtly contradict, yet the production never feels anything but cohesive. There is glue in the desire to question and debate one singular event, and no one is ever deprived of their right to speak. The epic is made human and vice versa, and spectacle is never far away. This is theatre.

“Jerusalem” by Jez Butterworth

at the Apollo Theatre, Saturday 24th April 2010

 

It is fitting that the last performance of the West End run of Jez Butterworth’s astonishing play Jerusalem should be on 24th April, meaning that the cast and crew had to pack up their belongings and leave the very same day Johnny Byron is forced to evict his caravan in Flintock woods. And just like Johnny, nobody wants to go.

The premise for the story is simple; it is St George’s day, and one man, living on his own in a caravan in the woods and host to many parties, is being forced to vacate his current premises in order that Kennet and Avon can build a new estate in the area. His friends Ginger, Lee, Davey, the Professor, Pea and Tanya join him at various points throughout the day as they go to and from the fair. Perhaps this indescribable simplicity is what makes the play so sublime, yet at the same time there are many layers which are all unveiled in parallel to the basic narrative.

Butterworth’s main gripes are with corporations whose double standards mean one person, the centre of a community, can be thrown out of his lifelong home in order that a few hundred new ones can be built. The playwright revels in English eccentricity and myths and creates a story which, while relevent in the modern world, could easily have been told in the past and will no doubt be repeated in the future.

Johnny ‘Rooster’ Byron, played extraordinarily by Mark Rylance, could be the one of the best characters ever to have been created for the English stage. Whilst on paper his antics and behaviour seem to be fairly despicable, we could not feel more empathy. His drug use, alcoholism and vulgar language are forgotten in the light of his compassion, independence and fantastically elaborate tales. He is a story-teller, and leaves no detail untold when reciting his encounter with a 90 foot tall giant and other amazing anecdotes. Mark Rylance embodies the role completely and there is no doubt that men like Rooster exist all over England.

Other inhabitants of this world are Mackenzie Crook’s Ginger, the outsider of the group with delusions of being a DJ, and Tom Brooke’s Lee, a man whose down-to-earth nature allows him to see in from another point of view. The performances of the rest of the cast are faultless and every word uttered is believed wholeheartedly.

Never before has such an impressive and organic set been seen on the London stage. Designed by Ultz, a shiny metal caravan is marooned amongst trees which stretch out to the roof and as live chickens peck away at the foliage we are reminded of happier and simpler times. Mimi Jordan Sherin’s moody yet imperceptible lighting design directs us who we should be watching without making itself obvious and Ian Dickenson’s tranquil sounds of birds and trees are constantly interrupted by planes and the sounds of modern living. 

The play swings from tragic to comic, bawdy to serious, extroverted to introverted. It is in the last act, however, that Ian Rickson’s production really comes into its own. As the inevitable climax draws closer it becomes unbearable to watch but it is that thought makes watching only more enticing. Byron’s last monologue as he bangs his drum to call the giants sends the audience’s collective heart beating and as the curtain comes down we are left shaking and wondering if any play will ever effect in the same way. Mark Rylance in his speech signalling the end of the run hinted that the play could be back in the near future, and possibly with the same cast. We live in hope.