‘A case of too many bartenders ruining the martini’
The slurring, bumbling franchise has been going for 15 years, taking the logical extreme of a drinking show to what must surely be its final, shrieking conclusion.
Now, it’s very easy for us critics to be snotty about the more boisterous forms lurking in the corners of theatreland. I am normally not that writer, loving burlesque, (some) naughty cabaret/strip shows. Also, these feel-good adrenaline shows cannot be ignored, as The Play That Goes Wrong, Plied and Prejudice and Choir of Man are doing very well for themselves. After decades of having Terence Rattigan and Tracy Letts slung at us, who would have thought that audiences actually wanted to see fun on stage?
This is, however, my second experience of the concept-where, if you are blissfully unaware, a classic musical (Oliver in my first case) or text is “performed”. The twist is that, on a rota (for safety), one performer downs many alcohols before the show, appearing hammered and attempting to finish the performance.
Hamlet is undeniably one of Shakespeare’s most churning, existential tragedies, so in theory a drunken person mullocking about should work quite well. Obviously nauseating purists (what doesn’t? ) but then, if you love the Bard, you would most likely avoid a show that puts the word sh!t in the same title. Two bars glow within the very auditorium (normally a comedy venue), so the blood alcohol levels are high, and the whoops and raucous chuckles at least propel the performers through the studied chaos of the concept.
I, however, on this rare occasion, was stone-cold sober. Painfully so. Straight out of the gate, I was not the target audience. Yet the attempted improvisational comedy and calculated/spontaneous harum-scarum were not hitting the spot for my drinking date either. Our drunkard, Princess Donnough, giggles, corpses, swears and changes some lines within the piece. I am no prude, and the bawdy humour, expletives, and chop-changing of accents and character weren’t really the issue. The issue is everything else swirling around the poor inebriate.
Stacey Norris’s direction can’t seem to work out where the rest of the play sits. Are they aiming for a serious performance of Shakespeare interrupted by a devilish spirit (wanted to use that one all review), or a comically rubbish production where everyone pitches in for a chance to be the comedian? Britian’s favourite stand-it bear-baiting; audience participation, modern music and dance sections only muddy the waters further. At points, it’s difficult to know who the truly mullered actor is, as everyone onstage crowds in to show off their improvisational skill-a serious case of too many bartenders ruining the martini.
Comedy, like singing, acting or flirting, should look effortless-and all the horns, bells, buckets and booze here are the epitome of effort, desperately trying to make you laugh. What is aimed for is an orgy of bad behaviour that disappointingly descends into bad theatre as quickly as one can go from happy to weeping intoxication. Maybe it’s time to put down the bottle and pick up the matcha?
Keep a (maybe) crossed eye on the company? Click HERE?