Search

Saved articles

You have not yet added any article to your bookmarks!

Browse articles

GDPR Compliance

We use cookies to ensure you get the best experience on our website. By continuing to use our site, you accept our use of cookies, Privacy Policy, and Terms of Service.

Author

 
Louisa-Claire Dunnigan Review by Louisa-Claire Dunnigan 4 Published: 8 Aug 2010 Show Dates: 31 Dec 1969-31 Dec 1969

An author, two actors and an audience member discuss Tim Crouch’s last play, an unnamed and violence-filled two-person production whose effects on the actors and writer are slowly revealed.Placing the actors amongst the audience, Tim Crouch blurs the line between performance and reality, at first unsettling us, then lulling us into a sense of jovial companionship as the actors unfurl and engage with the people around them, constantly checking that we are okay, can see, are enjoying ourselves. Gradually, we become aware of darker associations between the characters, relationships in which we’re no longer willing to be implicated. The Author sucks you in, carrying the audience along on the soft-voiced poetical story-telling of its four main characters. Tim Crouch, playing himself, weaves images skilfully in the air, and though the script constantly forces interruptions, it rarely jars and the actors swap lines like trapeze artists; pauses leave the audience dangling, wondering who will go next. Although initially Esther Smith seems a little vapid and uninteresting next to the weightier male actors, her physical imitations are powerfully visceral and shocking, suddenly bringing visual violence into the softly-lit auditorium. Violence is an undertone throughout as the language becomes cruder and the descriptions increasingly shocking and graphic. The climax of the piece is told in total darkness, Crouch’s disturbing confession carrying across the space.There are unexpected musical interludes, odd music choices (The theme tune from Taxi I was informed by my neighbour) that shake the audience out of the experience and provide a background for awkward chatter. The lights fade, flash and rise randomly – sometimes (as with Crouch’s confession) these increase the drama, but other times they are distracting and confusing. Audience participation is encouraged, but when it is not directly called for, the actors don’t really know what to do; when an elderly gentleman asked if they could speak up, he was told that they were going to follow the script, and ignored. Dependence on audience means this production will change and develop as the run goes on, but it will undoubtedly remainan unsettling and gripping piece of drama.This is a play about the insidious effects of extreme violence in theatre: on the writer, on actors, and on the audience, playing with this old device to new effect. The Author brings horror unflinchingly into the room, seating it next to us, forcing us to look it in the face and accept a Malteser afterwards.

Related to this article:

Performances

The Blurb:

'Are you OK if I carry on?' Tim Crouch's new play for adults is a story of hope, exploitation, togetherness and abuse carried out in the name of the spectator. Contains graphic imagery. ' ...dazzling theatrical experience' **** (Guardian).