Goats

I was excited by the prospect of a Syrian playwright presenting their work at the Royal Court, renowned for its experiment.  It was a chance to obliterate our idea of Syrians as victims and celebrate them as artists and as writers. It was an opportunity - but one that sadly failed to break even with expectations. Two star reviews have been generous.

Albeit a preview, approximately half of the audience left at the interval, which goes some way towards explaining the general verdict. Those who remained weren't exactly overawed with reward.

Royal Court Theatre

Every scene was too long, particularly in Act One, with far too many words saying essentially the same things. With less lines perhaps Abu Firas could have remembered his lines in his scene with Imm Ghassan. The scene following Abu Firas' suicide, could have given us a moment in which to ground ourselves in the enormity of the tragic truth behind the endless words thrust in our direction. Instead we're met with a huge unnecessary speech from Abu Al-Tayyib pushing the girl to stay quiet. A few stern lines would have sufficed, we understand what's at stake by this point. It might have helped him remember his lines too.

Ensemble characters had unnecessary speaking roles that really broke up the pace in the main scenes. Comments like 'that happened to my dad too' just needed to be said in the background and allow the scene to continue.

The Stage

There needed to be clearer differentiation between characters played by multi-rolling cast members. I did not recognise that Imm Al-Tayyib's was a different character than the presenter either. I could not always understand when the four boys were boys, or fathers who had lost their sons, or village men. Between the four boys there was no rapport, despite attempts from Ali Barouti. There were just saying their lines, not acting them, but maybe this comes from playing so many characters and having so many pointless lines. The scene outside Aby Al-Tayyib's home adds nothing to the piece at all. The constant back and forth between a scene of conflict that we want to see play out between a wife and husband kept being interrupted by four boys with nothing to say to one another. A waste of time.

Royal Court Theatre

There are two scenes I would like to have seen more of.

- Adnan and Abu Firas sitting side by side, lit by the light of a mobile phone, watching footage that reflects a hard truth at the core of the piece. It was a moment of let up for the father who had spent the first half saying the same thing over and over like a broken record and chance to see that there is a very real threat underneath the bleating from character and goat.

- The other is the conflict between Abu and Imm Al-Tayyib, knowing that in pushing the agenda and propaganda - their own son was put to death, using their own very words. It could have been a  powerful scene, another opportunity missed due to the interruption of four young boys. It gave us the conflict we so badly carved. I wanted to see more of Imm Al-Tayyib's struggle.

And finally...the goats. Oh God, the goats.

Royal Court Theatre

In the final scene I lost so much of what was said. The hooves of the goats were so loud that I failed to understand if the mockery was intentional or not. Either way, the wooden boards needed covering with some kind of sound dulling material - I could even hear them in the wings. On the most part I understand that the mockery was intentional, with the many words representing the voices of the world that often leave the truth silenced, the goats representing the irrational sentiments of those in power to tell the rest of us what we're fighting for, an inescapable web of lies and words and comedy that snubs honest speaking men and snuffs out good will.

The Stage

But there is a time for mockery. And when goats treading on a dead man received the most laughs of the evening, went beyond black comedy, we all applauded the cast in keeping straight faces. But the problem was that many of us began to watch the goats and ignore what was being said because the scenes were too long. They are a distraction. I liked that the use of real goats amplifies the horrifying gimmick of replacing dead sons with animals as well as acting as gimmick to pull in an audience but it was so much of a mess that the attempt to lift meaning from the rubble was smothered before we left the auditorium.

There are elements that carried weight but there is far too much on the words and characters that distract. Most importantly, it was at least an hour too long. It was messy and boring to hear the same thing over and over. It might just be the worst production I've ever seen. The lesson? When opportunity knocks, don't put on a play that manages to be 3hrs long and yet still say nothing - if you expect your audience to stay to the end - and don't invite the goats!

Links: http://www.theartsdesk.com/theatre/goats-royal-court-review-unfocused-and-muddled
https://www.theguardian.com/stage/2017/dec/01/goats-review-royal-court-london-liwaa-yazji-syria-civil-war
https://www.theguardian.com/stage/2017/dec/03/goats-review-royal-court-theatre-syria-lebanon
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/theatre/what-to-see/charming-cast-except-humans-goats-royal-court-review/

So it Goes...

I had originally planned to spend the afternoon with a friend but with his final get-out calling to him I found other ways to entertain myself instead. Carting around my suitcase and two bags I power-walked from the infirmary to the Underbelly to catch the well-reviewed show, 'So It Goes'.

edinburghshowcase.britishcouncil.org

Family seemed to be a running theme with all of the shows I managed to see this year but in this one in particular, we were thrust into a world of family relationships that seemed all too familiar. The piece is based on a story following the journey of Hannah, mourning the death of her father. As she struggles to speak about her grief in the 7yrs that follow, she instead turns her focus to moping on the sofa and nights out on the town until finally she finds a way back to her mother. It was the second show I caught at the Fringe this year to avoid speech entirely, leaving a magnified emphasis on the visuals - which were bursting with originality and symbolic of the inability to see black and white at times of emotional difficulty.

incomingfestival.com

Facial expressions were at their best in this one, there was plenty of energy despite the subject matter and lack of dialogue. The show also featured lots (And lots) of whiteboards as important parts of the story were written for the audience to see - allowing us into our protagonist's world (and I applaud them on managing to write upside down)!

theartsdesk.com

We were drawn in with a high energy beginning, with enactments of memories of dad running everywhere, to work, to the shop, around the park. Dad loved to run. And our girl loved dad.

Line drawings were a huge part of the character of this show. Not only did it act to aid scene changes, explain narrative or act as scenery - it also had a kind of symbolic nature, representing the many childlike emotions that can present post-trauma. There was also something harrowing about seeing the solitary word 'cancer' written on one of the cards aided by an x-Ray like drawing of dad's insides. Despite the impact of the negative, these drawings also suggested a childish quality in our characters that gave them life and enabled us to really feel sympathy for them.

eastendreview.co.uk

I particularly enjoyed the club scene, with buckets of energy from our two actors (and buckets to catch the amount of sweat produced too), and with line drawings to represent the crowd and drinks - it was as clever visually as it was emotionally climatic. This was the moment for me that made the most sense when it comes to mourning - as we turn our energy to losing our minds and finesse the art of distraction. It's a routine I've practiced and one I could really connect with.

So it Goes... was brutally powerful. I am very much a woman of words and I find it much easier to write them down, rather than share them with anybody out loud. The show was a perfect embodiment of grief, of memory and of moving on. It was warm, it was fragile and it was human, which made it a hit at the Fringe this year and I hope on bigger stages to follow.

Find out more about the story behind the show here: http://www.ontheruntheatre.co.uk/#!current-production/cb3i