“The Effect” by Lucy Prebble

at the Cottesloe Theatre, Wednesday 19th December 2012

Anyone who knows me will know that I’m a bit of a science fanatic. If there’s any topic which is likely to come up in a conversation with me other than theatre, it’s likely to be quantum physics, the cosmos or the like. Lucy Prebble’s The Effect, therefore, satisfies both these passions of mine, indulging each to excess and leaving me giddy with possibility. Along with director Rupert Goold, she questions the way in which we conduct clinical trials whilst probing the very notion of depression. If Three Kingdoms was my favourite production of 2012, then The Effect is without doubt my favourite play.

The play is essentially a dramatised amalgam of Ben Goldacre’s Bad Science/Pharma and Adam Curtis’ The Trap, involving two young people (Tristan and Connie) involved in a drugs trial for a new anti-depressant which increases dopamine levels in the brain. They fall in love, though its not quite clear whether this is due to the drug or their natural urges. In a beautiful scene, they escape the confines of the trial, heading to a disused asylum to question their attraction to one another; if they’re only falling in love because of the drug, does this make their feelings towards one another any less ‘real’, or is it just the same, seeing as what we call ‘love’ is only really a release of chemicals in the brain and around the body anyway.

If you haven’t seen the play yet and don’t want it spoiled, skip this paragraph; I’m about to set out the rest of the narrative, as I feel it’s important to a discussion of the ideas of the play. It transpires, towards the end of the first act that one of them is on a placebo, acting as a control patient for the trial. At the beginning of act two, Connie finds out this is Tristan, instantly making her question her feelings towards him and cementing her belief that he genuinely has feelings for her. About a scene later, however, Toby, the overseer of the trial, tells Dr Lorna James, the clinical psychiatrist conducting it that in actual fact she is the one being tested for practitioner bias and that Tristan is indeed on the drug after all. She was told about the placebo so they could see if it would change her behaviour. Connie, however, believing Tristan is not on the drug, slips him another dosage, causing him to seizure and lose his memory. During the last few scenes of the play, we see Lorna in a state of deep depression and Tristan being looked after by Connie after undergoing complete loss of memory.

Prebble’s text is extraordinary. She manages to explain all the central ideas and scientific concepts of the play without ever using exposition and creates some gloriously intricate scenes, like the one in the asylum and the final scenes between Connie and Tristan which move from day to day in a similar fashion to Duncan Macmillan’s Lungs. The discussion between Lorna and Toby about the nature of depression – whether it is a curable disease or simply a fact of life which has been exploited for financial gain – says more about this debate than many experts have in countless books.

Broadly, the questions raised by the script about clinical trials and depression are embodied by the design and performances respectively.

Miram Buether’s design immediately unnerves and unsettles. Walking into the pit of the Cottesloe, we are surrounded by lime green; it’s on the walls (which are padded, by the way), on our upholstered seats (the most comfortable I’ve sat on during a play) and on the plush carpet floor, which also has a frame of red. Bright, institutionalised strip lights on the floor and ceiling are countered with the dim, homely lamps surrounding us. Opposite us and to the sides are more ‘patients’ and the performances happen in the middle. Jon Driscoll’s projections appear on the floor and on the walls, shifting focus. Sometimes, Jon Clark’s lighting is so dim we can only see outlines and Sarah Angliss’ music is imperceptible enough to make us wonder if it is a figment of the imagination.

The immediate question the design raises is this: how is any kind of reputable, scientific trial which is supposed to benefit humanity able to occur here? It’s comfortable enough, but when measuring dopamine, a chemical which can affect who we are, surely the surrounding should be a little more, well, human. Prebble asks questions about confirmation bias (when the practitioner sees what they want to see based on hypotheses) and Buether’s set suggests that with as blank a canvas as this it’s no surprise any interpretation can be found to suit the sponsor’s needs. The many images of scanned brains, graphs and grids nod towards the neurobabble the production is taking a swipe at, suggesting we be more critical next time we read about fMRI scanners.

Goold’s direction mingles with the design to link the two themes of trials and depression. Often the stage becomes a split screen (at one point we can even see the seam), so that two similar scenes happen simultaneously, enforcing the contracting methods and ideas. After Tristan and Connie have been separated, they move around Dr James to ask her many questions about the other, mirroring one another’s movements and following the same contours in their conversation. Placebo is placed in opposition with drug, health with illness, depression with ‘normality’.

The most interesting argument in the piece comes from that final point, and its the one which will get the most people talking and spark the most debate. After hearing Curtis’ thoughts on depression, his belief that it is a normal fact of modern life (at any one time one in five of suffers from mental health problems) which pharmaceutical companies have capitalised on is hard to shake. Prebble addition to this that mild- to mid- ‘depression’ causes the person effected to see the world and its problems more clearly suggests that it is actually are view of normality which is problematic.

Tom Goodman-Hill (Toby) and Anastasia Hille (Lorna) embody the opposing viewpoints perfectly, and both seem equally plausible. Though Toby has an incentive to peddle antidepressants, his research does seem to be thorough and the suggestion that depression will be curable in the future is extremely engaging, whilst Lorna’s arguably more progressive response is problematised by her own issues. Their best moments come during mirroring scenes, when lecturing the audience on the nature of the brain; Goodman-Hill is authoritative and enlightening, whilst Hille in her act two scene breaks down in an uncontrollable sadness. Her performance throughout is, consistently, utterly believable.

As the patients, Jonjo O’Neill and Billie Piper are exquisitely matched and each show both physical and mental change due to the events of the play. O’Neill’s happy-go-lucky Irish charm is refreshing, making his final scenes all the more heartbreaking, and Piper grows as an individual even though she ends up arguably less ‘happy’ than she was. But have these changes in their personality been caused by chemical shifts or are they effects of their surroundings?

The very fact that Goold and Prebble chose to stage a play which tackles neuroscience and confirmation bias is commendable enough in itself. That The Effect is a resounding success is therefore worthy of utter admiration. It is a play which – appropriately – lodges itself deep within the brain and alters the way things are ordered and perceived. These debates have been going for years and will continue for a long time to come, but by placing them on a National Theatre stage they should begin to enter the public consciousness. As things stand, too many decisions are being made by too few people; with regards to such a moral question which effects people’s lives, however, the more of us educated about and involved in the debate the better.

Greg Doran: the new Michael Boyd

Today, it was announced that Greg Doran is to take over as artistic director of the Royal Shakespeare Company in September. Very few of us can say we didn’t see that coming. He’s a solid, safe pair of hands. He believes in the integrity of Shakespeare’s language and his productions in the last few years have been nothing but good. As Michael Boyd’s right-hand man, he understands how best the company should be run and no doubt realises where improvement is needed. In discussions, he is gentle, respectful and humble. He seems the obvious choice.

But that’s exactly the problem. When talking about Doran’s work and style, many words associated with mediocrity are employed; “solid”, “good”, “okay”, “fine”. He has rarely been talked of as “bold”, “ambitious” and “provocative”. Hence why he got the job, I imagine. With a company as respected and well-known as the RSC, the board couldn’t be expected to place the ship in a new, less-experienced pair of hands. Or so I imagine the argument goes.

Some of us, however, believe that’s exactly what the company did need. Boyd has done an incredible job over the past decade of bringing the company out of the slums of Noble’s tenancy and into the realm of the theatrical heavyweights. His return to the European model of ensemble has been a superb move (though it could still go further), and most can agree that the new Royal Shakespeare Theatre is one of the most exciting major theatres built in a generation.

This is precisely the reason the RSC doesn’t need Doran at the helm; my guess is he will bring much the same output as Boyd – good but not ground-breaking – and he will continue the outgoing AD’s legacy of raising the enterprise out of the ashes. This is fruitless considering the RSC is in a far better place than it was a decade ago. It is at the stage it should be (minus a London home), and does not need the same, ‘solid’, work in order to build its reputation. Now is the time, more than ever, when the company can afford to take risks.

Some of us were unfortunate enough to be born after the golden age of Hall and Nunn, when European companies were invited to Stratford to perform in the same spaces as British performers and experimental productions were mounted at The Other Place. We long for a return to those roots, which would entail shifting the focus of the company slightly away from Shakespeare and towards theatrical practices in general. There are companies all over the continent – nay, world – who are producing work far more challenging and exciting than anything the RSC has done in years, and on a fraction of the budget. We should learn from them; the RSC needs to stop pandering to the audiences who were watching thirty years ago and provide something for the next generation too. Doran said today on Front Row that it’s not as easy as simply reopening a new black-box studio theatre, and that TOP was more of an “idea” than a real venture, but if he’s to have any success in showing the RSC to be an institution not afraid of “taking risks” (outlined on its web page), then these sort of decisions need to be made.

All this may sound like I would champion the directorship of, say, Rupert Goold, but quite aside from the fact he apparently withdrew his application, even he remains someone who is relatively mainstream (though I imagine he’d have been more exciting than Doran). Granted, the company shouldn’t have been handed over to an unknown, but I imagine that the choice of someone a little younger and avant-garde would have been welcomed by a large percentage of its audience.

Naturally, it’s difficult and somewhat unfair to come to conclusions without letting Doran even have his say about his plans, but based on his track record it’s difficult to envisage the RSC going the places it ought to. Not all of us are middle-class, middle-aged theatregoers who enjoy safe, mediocre theatre.

“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.

“The Merchant of Venice” by William Shakespeare

at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Wednesday 18th May

You can say what you like about the RSC – that they represent the establishment, don’t push boundaries and have too much funding – but, like Michael Boyd’s recent Macbeth, Rupert Goold’s production of The Merchant of Venice proves that the company is once again trying to take risks, reinterpreting classics and showing them to be more than the stale stage versions we often see. Although Goold’s production isn’t without its faults, it presents a spectacle and a highly charged concept which brings out elements of Shakespeare’s text which weren’t previously evident.

Opening in true Gooldian style, with a casino pre-show followed by a song-and-dance routine, this Vegas production is brought headlong (gettit?) into the twenty-first century, and, for the most part, the text survives relatively intact. The world of excess in which the characters find themselves fits the themes of risk and greed perfectly and, like Goold’s ENRON and Earthquakes in London previously, we get a vision of a world obsessed by the material. Shifting the world of Belmont to a Deep South game show – “Destiny” – is nothing short of genius, offering a performative mirror to the showiness of Vegas.

The play, so often associated with racism, here becomes something different; this testosterone-fuelled world is exclusive of any sort of difference, showing our society to be a despicably intolerant one. The religious zealotism of America is the focal point – like gambling, believing in any form of god or otherwise is a risk. Some extraordinary moments in this production come through the sometimes heavy-handed concept. The ‘Destiny’ game show scenes are truly tense, and the final trial scene is stunningly performed by all.

In fact, the weakest link in this production is also its star name. Patrick Stewart, once again, plays Patrick Stewart, although this time with a dubious American accent. His two registers are more pronounced than usual, and he never portrays enough gravitas for us ever to take notice. The “If you prick us” speech comes out of nowhere and his voice simply limps through the space. Far more engaging are Jamie Beamish’s fantastical Launcelot ‘Elvis’ Gobbo and Howard Charles’ vicious Gratiano. Scott Handy provides a contemplative Antonio, and Richard Riddell’s Bassanio is the confident leader of a group of ‘Lads on Tour’. The performance of the evening, however, comes from Susannah Fielding’s aspirational Portia, whose pretence of putting on a classy public persona eventually forces her to break-down.

Tom Scutt’s garish blue and gold set-design evokes the trashy showiness of Vegas casinos, and Rick Fisher’s lighting makes the reflective surfaces both glamorous and grungy. Adam Cork’s music utilises Elvis, Duck Sauce and Glee, providing a perfect backdrop to Goold’s excessive world.

Although Goold’s concept sometimes comes through at the expense of the text in the first half, there are plenty of moments in which Shakespeare’s words are heard loud and clear. Some great performances and hilarious gags make this a highly watchable production which doesn’t see any issues with this ’problem’ play. Goold and his team have once again created a spectacle, emphasising a material world, ploughing through and never looking back.

From Shakespeare’s Sonnets to a Ginger Aussie

Yesterday the Royal Shakespeare Company announced its season of events to get the punters along to the new Royal Shakespeare Theatre when it opens from 24th November. There seems to be something for everyone, and it seems the RSC have outdone themselves as they prepare to showcase everything from serious debates to downright frivolity. When it was announced the old RST would be redeveloped, many complained that many of the stories and memories would vanish when the theatre was restructured. As the new theatre becomes a hive of activity in winter, however, no doubt we will be treated to anecdotes for the new generation.

Here’s a quick breakdown of the highlights.

What would the RSC be without poetry? Buggered, that’s what. Rightly so, the first staged event to be taking place in the new 1000-seat space on 3rd December will be Uncertainty is Not a Good Dog, a “playful evening of witty and tender poetry” by award-winning poets. It is somewhat odd that the first event will not be based around Shakespeare, but this being the premiere for the theatre it will probably sell out quickly.

Certain to sell out sooner, however, will be Love Is My Sin, Shakespeare’s Sonnets, directed and adapted by Peter Brook. Performed on Friday 7th and Saturday 8th January, this piece will surely remind us of the beauty of Shakespeare’s words and the skill of Brook himself.

In true RSC style, audiences will also be treated to a selection of discussions and talks, including Barrie Rutter reminiscing about his time at the RSC on 11th December, Quentin Blake drawing some of his beloved Roald Dahl characters on 4th December and Roger Rees in his one-man half-performance-half-discussion show What You Will on 14th and 15th December. Most exciting perhaps is Tim Minchin on 16th January playing songs from Matilda and his new one man show. Having seen Minchin live last year, this is a definite must-see.

Throughout the early months the theatre will be taken over by many companies and artists outside the RSC performing sight-specific work within the new shell. Sound and Fury on 8th December promises to help us “discover new words throughout the theatre”, and Geraldine Pilgrim’s Handbag, originally seen at BAC to critical acclaim, establishes itself in the RST on 6th and 7th November.

There is too much to write about in detail, but other events include demonstrations of the technical side of the theatre, performances from young and amateur dramatic societies, concerts, exhibitions and stand-up from Russell Kane and Chris Addison.

Moving on to February we see the first major productions to be staged in the new auditoria. First up is David Farr’s production of King Lear with Greg Hicks in the title role, followed by Rupert Goold’s acclaimed production of Romeo and Juliet at the RST. I must admit a slight disappointment at this news, for I must confess the illogical part of my mind wished the new theatre would open with a new repertoire. Of course in practice this would have been impossible, as the current ensemble finish in London merely a month before, but the dream was still there. Nevertheless, both of these productions are superb are well worth the visit.

Round the back in the Swan Theatre, Michael Boyd’s less than impressive Anthony and Cleopatra plays alongside short runs of Little Angel Theatre’s The Tempest and a new production of The Rape of Lucrece. Those who missed the Young People’s Shakespeare productions of Hamlet and Comedy of Errors will also be able to catch them in the Swan and RST respectively.

On a sadder note, it has come to my attention that at the moment the RSC has no firm plans for a farewell to the Courtyard Theatre, the ensemble’s temporary home for the past four years, after Matilda at Christmas. The building will stay where it is and will be used as part of the Shakespeare Festival, but it surely deserves a proper send-off. The RSC, I am told, are open to thoughts and ideas, so email them today and the Courtyard will get the treatment it needs.

Boyd is yet to announce what productions will officially open the new theatres in April next year to coincide with the 50th birthday celebrations, but whatever they are we can expect something spectacular and must-see. We wait in anticipation.

For more information take a look at the schedule http://www.rsc.org.uk/downloads/theatres-opening-schedule.pdf

“Earthquakes In London” by Mike Bartlett

at the Cottesloe Theatre, Thursday 26th August 2010

Young people have always blamed the generation before them for ruining their lives and making life difficult. The current younger generation, however (of which I myself am a part), has it worse. Mike Bartlett’s Earthquakes In London demonstrates the mess our planet is in and the need for rulers of the future to take action now whilst enjoying the life they have. Under the direction of Rupert Goold the play is portrayed in a suitably epic and involving way, and whilst the script is at times in need of trimming we still understand the major points being discussed.

It could be argued that the story is largely irrelevant, that it is simply a vehicle through which Bartlett can explore environmental issues. Of course a narrative is necessary, but it doesn’t on its own depict issues which haven’t been depicted before. Essentially we follow a trio of sisters (Sarah, Freya and Jasmine played with no inhibitions by Lia Williams, Anna Madeley and Jessica Raine respectively), throughout a period of two days in their dysfunctional lives. They each have to deal with problem partners, problem jobs and problems in the world around them. As mentioned above, however, the story of these central characters merely allows access into the world of environmentalism.

The main question Bartlett asks in the play is how best to deal with climate change. We are treated to some wonderful set pieces describing our troubles (a stand-out one being the sisters’ father Robert using his house keeper as an analogous tool), but the most interesting scenes depict situations in which choices can be made to change the world but aren’t. Early on a young Robert is bribed into skewing research to disprove global warming and Sarah (a Lib Dem MP) almost joins forces with a global airline corporation. It is these wrong decisions which are being made daily that are putting our planet in jeopardy. As long as power-holders and money-grabbers keep choosing to “stick their heads in the sand” and ignore the “gathering storm”, there is no hope left.

Although this cause is entirely justified and Bartlett does a sterling job in portraying what is wrong with the current system, he takes up too many pitchforks at once. Quite aside from having a monumental dig at all those who do nothing to help the environment, he also questions the morals over peaceful and non-peaceful protest, whether or not it is right to envisage an apocalypse, the rights of a mother and unborn child, urban freewheeling and even Facebook. It is this vast conglomeration of ideas which makes the play at times hard to follow, causing the production to lose focus.

Use of the absurd in Earthquakes In London should also be questioned. Up to a point many obscure ideas and musical numbers make sense and fit well into the rest of Goold’s adventurous staging, but the moment we see a metaphysical world in which angels exist Bartlett has gone too far. The cause of fighting climate change needs to be addressed but can be done so away from fanciful storytelling. The focus should be on the issue and the drama can be found in that. Deciding to use this other-worldly element does not fit with the rest of the realities on show in the play and adds nothing whatsoever to the drama.

It is Goold’s staging and Miriam Buether’s innovative set design that make the play stand out, however. They do at times take away from the important issues, but generally involve the audience and make them implicit in the action. Buether’s set design turns the Cottesloe into a promenade space, with a long S-shaped bar snaking through the middle and portraying the way society has strayed off our path. When actors make their way into the audience areas we feel a desire to dance and shout along with them, creating the sense of one big party. This is strengthened by Alex Baronowski’s visceral and diverse music and the half-naturalistic, half-symbolistic projections of Jon Driscoll.

As always with Goold’s productions he directs his actors perfectly. The ensemble all create fine performances, but standing out are Williams, conveying the irritability of a tired MP, and Raine, portraying the wild frivolity of youth. Anna Madeley as Freya holds the play together while her character falls apart. Geoffrey Streatfield and Tom Goodman-Hill as confused husbands also impress, and Bryony Hannah as 14-year-old Peter, with some of the best lines in the play, is constantly captivating.

Earthquakes In London is an important play which tackles important issues, and in doing so is incredibly ambitious. It is this ambition, however, which sometimes lets the text falter, suggesting that Bartlett should have taken a closer look at more specific issues. Goold’s direction however allows the script to soar and means that this production should not be missed. Hopefully it will mark the beginning of a tidal wave of serious theatre grappling climate change.

“Romeo and Juliet” by William Shakespeare

at The Courtyard Theatre, Tuesday 18th August 2010

One thing which puts Rupert Goold above many other directors in the game at the moment is his ability to mix music and sound into productions seamlessly, making sure they are justified and create dramatic tension. In this production of Romeo and Juliet, Goold incorporates many tableaux and movement pieces, but unlike Michael Boyd’s recent Antony and Cleopatra, they do not take away but in fact add to the words already on the page.

As most reviewers have commented, Goold incorporates a great deal of religious imagery and references in this production. Whilst this creates some striking visual images and allows for deep, rumbling music, this does not seem to be the main aspect which differentiates this Romeo and Juliet from others. What makes this special is the performances from Sam Troughton as Romeo and Mariah Gale as Juliet. Their roles have been seemingly subverted; the usual ‘innocent children’ interpretation has been swapped for one which makes the two leads far more rational. Their eyes do not meet on the dance floor, but Troughton makes a decision that Juliet is a girl who might just satisfy his lustful feelings.

Although it may sound odd that the word lust is being used in a review of Romeo and Juliet, it is this raw emotion that makes this production more special. The famous speeches are not spoken in earnest tones or whispered tongues, but frankly and openly. Troughton and Gale capture the essence of what it is to be a teenager perfectly, dressed in hoodies and tracksuit bottoms, trying to always get one up on their parents. This Romeo and this Juliet were not made for the doublet-clad world of their parents.

The rest of the company, dressed in Elizabethan attire, prove that ensemble work is definitely the way forward. Jonjo O’Neill is an erratic Mercutio, and Richard Katz brings a crazed tyranny to the role of Lord Capulet. Noma Dumezweni as the Nurse and Forbes Masson as Friar Lawrence both take control of the play with guts, guiding us through the twists and turns of the relationship between the two families.

Tom Scutt’s iron and stone set lends an ethereal air to the play, and the striking projections on the back wall allow us to move from emotion to emotion thoughtlessly. Light and sound by Howard Harrison and Adam Cork respectively brings the text viscerally into the 21st Century and choreography by Georgina Lamb gives the entire production energy and fire.

This is what we expect from Romeo and Juliet. Whilst there are aspects of this production which focus on love, it takes the opinion that Shakespeare wrote about passion in all forms, and how it causes us to act irrationally. The semi-coup-de-theatre at the end, as the heads of the two families enter in modern dress, suggesting a dream-world, shows that the action of the play could just as easily take place now as when it was first written. Goold’s Romeo and Juliet will not be forgotten in a hurry.

“Enron” by Lucy Prebble

at the Noel Coward Theatre, Wednesday 28th April 2010

It is no surprise that the capitalist critics on Broadway have not enjoyed Lucy Prebble’s superb hit from last year, Enron. Attacking dog eat dog business and proving that we need regulation of the markets is never likely to go down well with those whose sole goal in life is to fulfil the American Dream. Contrary to how many of Broadway’s critics are viewing the play, however, Prebble does not simply attack corporation in the Unites States. She is attacking the entire global system.

The play shows, in striking theatrical terms, the rise and inevitable fall of US corporate giant Enron from the early 1990s to December 2001. Beginning with the decision firmly contested by Amanda Drew’s dry Claudia Row to shift focus of the company to trade, and ending with the arrests and convictions of the three central characters, there is true drama to be found in the narrative. From the moment Tom Goodman-Hill as Andy Fastow explains his theory of transferring debt into smaller black box companies, we immediately see where the problem lies. The world of trade and commerce isn’t even understood by those working within it, but the constant wish to gain more money forces those in high positions to make stupid decisions.

Samuel West as the play’s central character Jeffrey Skilling offers an almost manic performance. Whether intended or not, Skelling is an incredibly Faustian being. He already has great wealth and knowledge when the plays begins but in effect sells in company’s ‘soul’ to the markets in order to enjoy a decade of growth. It is also interesting that Skelling is sentences to twenty-four years in prison, the period of time which Faustus gives of his own life to Mephistopheles. The greed of traders and bankers simply isn’t necessary, and can only ever lead to disaster.

Prebble’s accomplished script is further improved by Rupert Goold’s innovative staging, which uses dance, song and puppetry in order to expose the farce of the system. Sequences set on the stock floor use impeccable choreography to heighten the metaphor that the events shown are simply a performance and aren’t much more than smoke and mirrors. A particularly intriguing and humourous idea sees the Lehman Brothers as an inseparable duo, akin to Monty Python’s three-headed knight. Everyone is played as a slight caricature, and yet we still believe that these people exist in front of us. It is not hard to think that the warped personas are in fact how many tradesmen act.

Praise must also be given for Anthony Ward’s simple design, which takes advantage of video technology and lighting to highlight certain aspects of life in a corporation and further the deception of the bankers. Streams of numbers appear on the back wall and stocks roll past as we realise that even someone who has been working in this industry for their entire life cannot comprehend what it all means.

No doubt the play will be revived in future times of economic uncertainty, for those at the top will never understand that greed cannot drive a business. That said, however, Enron is a play for now. It mirrors our current situation with sufficient savagery but is also a fascinating piece of drama which uses metaphor to show that the world created on stage is in fact closer to reality than the  world itself.