Uncomfortable viewing - I like it!

What do they all have in common?

 

A classroom. A press conference. A court of law. An interview room.

 

...

 

A police interrogation cell?

 

Well they are certainly not places that I have visited recently. A classroom in August?! [Edited to add: Ok I crumbled - I went into school on Monday morning last week...]

 

Nor are they arenas in which passivity is likely to be a comfortable course of action. Such an approach may at best result in detention, misrepresentation, harsh sentencing, blank column inches and, depending on your chosen decade, a taste of the law's proverbial long arm (in no particular order).

 

Fortunately, for those of us inclined to occasionally seek respite from the multitudinous thrills and vexations of daily life, there are sanctuaries to which we may surreptitiously slope.

 

Blissfully mindless entertainment is readily available. Television. Cinema. Concerts. Watching Plymouth Argyle (always mindless, occasionally - I am assured -  entertaining). Theatre.

 

Theatre?

For many theatregoers, entertainment is indeed the sole or predominant motive. Although theatre devotees acknowledge its multiple forms, uses and purposes, it cannot be ignored that the major commercial theatres of London's West End, according to a Mayor of London report into the capital's dominant revenue streams (or oceans), account for close to sixty per cent of the UK's entire theatrical financial takings. Certainly, a good number of the productions showing at these venues have been designed to appeal to the mass audience as typified by the rapid proliferation of 'juke-box' musicals (Jersey Boys, Dreamboats and Petticoats, We Will Rock You etc.) and increasingly those which appeal directly to popular culture - see the acclaim afforded to X-Factor spoof musical I Can't Sing in spite of its premature closure.

And so I add to the original question: is theatre best as an inherently passive experience for the audience?

That is certainly debatable and far be it from me to decry a spectator arriving at a performance with the dubious aim of seeking entertainment - indeed they have at least chosen to go to the theatre which should surely only be encouraged!

However, three performances in the last few weeks have each caused me to consider my own position as a spectator and I would venture that my experience was in each case improved as a result.

The first was an intriguing piece of new writing by Irfon Rickard. His one-man exploration of the vicissitudes of aspects of the human condition in The Nihilist (performed by Mike Fish) somewhat inadvertently produced an instant split among his intimate audience. Offered the choice between a glass of red wine and a cup of coffee on arrival, the audience swiftly becomes implicated in the claims made by the title character. It emerges that those drinking wine are the risk takers with the coffee sippers favouring rather more sheltered lives. This accusation is made early on and immediately each audience member is made conspicuously aware of their choice of beverage and the new implications it suddenly has for how they are perceived. For indeed, the coffee drinkers are being silently judged. Of course, as a rational human being I am not to be moved by such sweeping generalisations as this. That is, sadly, until The Nihilist himself confronts your correspondent and challenges the saucer in my right palm. As an unavoidable reflex I'm on the defensive!

'I'm driving'.

Never before has such a reasonable statement sounded quite so pathetic. Not wanting to be viewed by the rest of the audience in Tavistock's grand Bedford Hotel as a handkerchief-waving violet, I felt compelled to prove that I too could be a 'risk-taker'. I too could live on the edge. But it would have to wait until my friends had been delivered safely to their doorsteps...

This play (without necessitating myself to comprehensively review the thing) certainly did a lot more than this - it negotiated the line between musing philosophical exploration and unadulterated angst with mostly successful guile and did provoke thought regarding the difference between optimists and pessimists - apparently my personality type would tend towards expecting a friendly embrace from an onrushing freight train... The discomfort of the audience may have been unintentional but it was strong enough to become worthy of note.




Actor Mike Fish as 'The Nihilist' in Irfon Rickard's new play.





My next outing of this performance trio was to see a far more established play, the National Theatre's own One Man Two Guv'nors, at the Theatre Royal in Plymouth. This time I arrived with a firm sense of what to expect. The play has received total acclaim since opening several years ago and evidently has wide audience appeal. I did not expect to be overly challenged by this play - indeed, Goldoni's original Servant Of Two Masters, upon which this new play is based, was in the tradition of the Commedia dell'Arte, a highly stylised physical-comedy genre.

 

While those expectations were more or less met, my position as passive spectator was certainly troubled. Without spoiling the action, there is frequent interaction (apparently unscripted...) between performers and audience. While we believe that the events are being partially dictated by our fellow audience-members, the experience quickly becomes an occasion of 'them against us'. As one the audience cheered, laughed and applauded the efforts of those unwillingly taken onto the stage in true panto fashion. Yes, despite descending into the truly farcical, the audience is never allowed to get too comfortable. The theatre becomes volatile and a person in any seat becomes vulnerable to random attack by those whom we have paid, ostensibly, to watch.

 

And finally, a further new play written for a specific community and performed both by professionals and members of that close collective group. 'The Day We Played Brazil' at Exeter's Northcott Theatre told the true story of the build up to and aftermath of Exeter City's infamous footballing tour of Brazil in immediate pre-war 1914. As with any good community theatre it was written and performed partially by, with and for the community itself. For this reason I, as an absolute outsider as a Plymouth Argyle fan, was made to feel excluded from the warm sense of well-being shared between cast and audience in the auditorium.

 

Plymouth Argyle and her loyal, wind-buffeted (metaphorically and quite literally) fans were mocked and derided intermittently throughout - the lady next to me, with whom I had spoken before curtain-up, looked pointedly in my direction each time and I felt as though the collective eyes of the city of Exeter itself were glaring accusingly at my blood which runs with more of a green than a red and white tint...

 

Despite the mild awkwardness, I felt rather pleased that I was experiencing something totally different from almost every other spectator. I was unable to share in the spirit created by the piece but was interested to find that the entertainment sought to be created by this play was hugely dependent on the previous experiences of the audience - for me, I was able to remain far enough removed to watch simultaneously the action on stage, and the action in the stalls, without being drawn into the finer details of Exeter City's triumphs.

So, perhaps if you'd never considered the possibility of theatre being anything other than pure entertainment I would exhort you to try something new. Perhaps a piece of new writing rather than an established play; perhaps a piece of community theatre, perhaps a production taking place in a warehouse rather than a luxurious theatre. You might find the experience unusual but exciting.

Or perhaps that freight train is actually just going to kill me...