'What goes by the name of love is banishment, with now and then a postcard from the homeland, such is my considered opinion, this evening.' With Beckettian dry humour and a tendency towards the obscene, Gare St Lazare brings us First Love, the story of a young man banished from his family home upon his fathers death. Spending his evenings alone on a bench, he meets Lou-Lou, a woman he cannot seem to escape and who eventually takes him home. Gare St Lazare have considerable experience in staging Beckett, and this show comes towards the end of a successful tour of Becketts Trilogy that they have taken all over the world. Using the text verbatim, with no additions or ornamentation, Conor Lovett performs on a stage stripped, like the show, to its bare essentials. Decaying stone staircase, scuffed black floor, the curtain at the back raised to reveal the packed-away clutter of other shows. This lack of props is a strength, as the text speaks for itself. Lovett performs it with a sensitivity to Becketts language and brings it to life through gesture and mime. Often with lengthy monologues, empty posturing can make the performance dull, but Lovett never falls into this trap. His actions, without appearing over-thought, are always deliberate and serve the story he is telling. Occasionally he will hold a pose a little too long, but this is quickly forgotten when an extended grip on a stew-pan is flung away purposefully, or perch on a bench is stepped out of elegantly. The use of certain forbidden words cause gasps from some members of the audience, but no one seems shocked when we are directly insulted later on there is a ripple of subdued laughter. This kind of laughter is engendered more than once; there is never a moment when the whole audience laughs, but different people recognise different elements in the script, and respond to them individually. This is the strength of Becketts text and Lovett never over-does a pun or bathetic comment, never forces the humour. Lovetts performance is wonderful to watch, his expressive face and gestures bring us with him into parlours and graveyards, engage us fully as we watch him carve names into cowpats. The character is recognisable and removed, as he is both attracted and repelled by Anna (her name is changed, in true-Beckett style, half-way through), we see the inseparable natures of love and excrement, birth and death. For some audience members this might be a little too long at 75 minutes it stands out from most shows on the Fringe but I felt it was the perfect length for its engaging and powerful performance.
