|
Rob
Phoned At
the Moser Theatre until 3rd March Andy King's new play is a refreshingly intelligent adoption of a familiar scenario; A Big Brother-esque observation of people in close domestic confinement. But King manipulates this conventional form to portray a desperate humanity, physically, mentally and emotionally retarded by the behavioural expectations forced upon it by society. The plot is simple. Six men, chosen by the invisible Rob, inhabit one dormitory, each commanded to go to 'work' at wildly differing times for wildly differing durations. No man may talk about this 'work' and neither we, nor they, will ever discover the nature of each's occupation. Through the fluctuating combinations of conversing characters on stage during their 'at home' periods, we witness a colourful exposition of the quirkier aspects of human identity, and, as the pressure rises, the emergence of destructive reactions and tensions. Beneath this minimalist plot emerges King's vision of a disgusting, base humanity. Each body openly pisses and shits, vomits, ejaculates, and voluntarily self-destructs through whisky and cigars. These bodies' owners remain bemused and defeated by their own physicality, staring into mirrors, trying to glimpse the 'me beneath this ugly hairy piece of meat'. This alienation of self from body results in hopeless loss of physical self-control, and, particularly, induces a hilarious inability to deal with the sticky consequences of a wet dream. Like the Theatre of the Absurd's portrayal of humanity's ludicrousness, Rob Phoned treads that fine line between humour and horror, laughter and disgust: 'Laugh?' asks one character, 'I nearly died.' These sad sick characters are not blamed but pitied for their moral and physical retardation. Rob Phoned accuses instead a society so dominated by a culture of work that its members are reduced to physical machines, unable to perceive individual identity in the need to fulfill randomly allotted tasks. Forced to only 'work and sleep, work and sleep', they develop an extreme lethargy that quashes all hope of escape, and degrades the highest ideals of humanity into an intoxicated man standing on a bed like 'a drunk, arrogant Christ'. King's script and concept are undoubtedly the most exciting aspects of Rob Phoned, but the acting and set were certainly not found wanting. Each performance was varied and strong, sometimes ludicrously caricatural, sometimes sensitively introspective. The set - a dormitory like a military hospital - was suitably bleak, set in the timeless era of the continued conflict of social and bodily identity. Cast, set and direction rendered this inspirational new play a refreshingly intelligent comment upon a 21st century society obsessed and traumatised by bodies and bodily observation, whether in our own figures, Big Brother or on the catwalk. Most frightening is that King's bleak portrayal of this disgusting, retarded humanity is all too recognisable. Rachel
Hewitt |