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Thomas and Ives: Its All in
the Words, W-o-r-d-s, Words.
at the Burton Taylor from 23rd November
If you have an ear for the nuances and rich textures of language,
then this double bill of plays is for you! The Burton
Taylor Theatre are bringing to life Dylan Thomass Under Milk
Wood and David Ivess much neglected All in the Timing. Those
who think of Thomas as primarily a drunkard and secondly a poet will
be proved mistaken. Whilst glimpses of a drunkards perspective
decorate the opening scenes of UMW, this is only a glaze to his luxurious
palette. The dream scene adds a surreal depth to the make-believe
Welsh village of Llareggub (buggerall); not least because it ambles
through the reflective memories of drowned and sleeping souls.
Through this dream-confusion of character identities (the actors play
about five each), the homogenous nature of village life is revealed.
Once you get used to the variations on the Welsh accent, the characters
merge and emerge through their differing experiences. Interstices
of humour, irony and pathos, revealed in rich rounds of descriptive
or spoken language, breathe life into this jumbled community. The
second scene brings a morning air of uneasy remembrance,
as the drunk confronts the inconclusive pointlessness of his nights
unbridled activities. Women gossip and the village resumes a normalcy
that is nevertheless overshadowed by drifts of life-death imagery.
It is far from sombre, though; Theres the woman who complains
of her nightly school-girl beating, or the revelation
of the drunkards pathetic pranks. But comedy mostly seeps in
through the words; the ironic, accepting chuckle of a weary, inebriated
man who finds beauty in pathos.
UMW is succeeded by a collection of four (of five) short sketches
by American author/playwright, David Ives. This continues the language
theme, pointedly entitled All in the Timing. These pieces are witty,
and short enough to be appreciated without boredom; anyone familiar
with modernist works like Eliots Sweeney Agonistes (1932) will
recognise the genre of conscious word patterning that reduces content
to a minimum, whilst giving words centre-stage as sound-combinations.
But dull it is NOT!!
The pace, for a start, gives no opportunity to twiddle ones
thumbs. An ostensibly two-line sketch of a man - Philip Glass - who
spots his ex-lover whilst buying a loaf of bread becomes a full concerto.
Words fragment into nonsense, poetry and song, so focussing on the
poor chaps (and girls, shop-keepers and friends)
confusion at the sighting. Repetition stalls time, reeling out the
momentary dilemma in comic discomfort until the words are gathered
together, finally, into a coherent reiteration of the emotional sighting.
It might have been tedious but humour, they say, is all in the timing,
and these guys are clearly practised. However, sketch two, Universal
Language allowed comedy to dominate form. Even here though, things
wound up just when I began to get fidgety. A con man persuades a shy,
stuttering secretary to pay for lessons in a nonsense language, Unamunda.
Its strange mix of English (John Cleese), Italian and
gibberish is surprisingly easy to pick up; even from a man who professes
to know only three English words: Hello, Goodbye
and Rice Krispies; (oh, and Thatll be 500
pounds!). The two certainly form a convincing duet (revealing
its operatic origins) in this universal lingo.
I left content and inspired. Anyone wanting to see these should try
to make both! They are short enough, entertaining enough, and fit
together amazingly well.
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