FESTIVAL THEATRE | Reviews
LIGHT Spectacular show inspired by surveillance scandals ●●●●●
This is one of Theatre Ad Infinitum's best shows yet. Their most recent Fringe hits, the multi-award winning Translunar Paradise (2011) and Ballad of the Burning Star (2013), were slickly choreographed but in Light, the group achieve with mime and strategic lighting what some Hollywood blockbusters fail to do with a multi-million dollar budget. It takes place in total darkness. Rather than conventional
lighting, LED torches are used by the actors to illuminate each scene. We're presented with an extreme vision of the future: the state can now read people's thoughts and manipulate their minds. An agent is sent to hunt citizens who try to 'disconnect' – and one day, he encounters a figure from his shadowy past. Inspired by a dream that director George Mann had ten years
ago and given new impetus by the recent surveillance scandals, Light feels apposite. Yet it's far enough removed from today that it's easy to avoid the political overtones and simply enjoy the story too. Mann and his co-artistic directors at Ad Infinitum are students of the Jaques Lecoq school in Paris and their training shows. They're so light on their feet that each new scene surprises. There's some striking imagery too, with reference points ranging from dystopian classics Nineteen Eighty-Four and Brave New World to masterpieces of psychological cinema like Terry Gilliam's Brazil. Together with the almost Whovian live soundscape, expertly performed by Mann, it's a captivating performance. The narrative could be leaner and the silent film-style projected
text is occasionally difficult to read amid the many lighting changes. But visually, Light is highly accomplished and quite spectacular. (Yasmin Sulaiman) ■ Pleasance Dome, 556 6550, until 25 Aug (not 11, 18), 5.15pm, £10–£13 (£8.50–£12).
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BLIND HAMLET A thought-provoking, ever-shifting show ●●●●● THE FLOOD Immersive drama set during WWI ●●●●●
Deep in the bowels of Summerhall, we are in the trenches of the First World War. A nurse chops raw liver while a soldier obsessively counts the lice in his uniform. The tiny space smells harsh and metallic, of old bricks and blood. The audience of ten stands around the walls while the two characters, lovers separated by the conflict, address their duties.
THE PITILESS STORM Breaking through the past and looking to the future ●●●●● Anyone who’s watched David Hayman perform will know his skill for mastering the characters he plays. And he doesn’t disappoint here. Hayman is on blistering form in this one-man show that, while making clear its political intent, is ultimately a cracking piece of theatre.
Nassim Soleimanpour – writer of the worldwide hit White Rabbit, Red Rabbit – is losing his sight. His visits to the optometrist are becoming more frequent and Soleimanpour, present only through voice recordings, laments having never read Shakespeare’s Hamlet.
Apart from the dutiful figure of the stage manager
and the Dictaphone containing Soleimanpour’s recordings, Ramin Gray's direction revels in sparsity and pointedly invites the audience to take part in the shifting, flexing and porous quality of the piece. The spectre of Hamlet haunts the effectively realised accounts of Soleimanpour’s tormented vision, with the words on the page becoming blurred to the point of ghostliness. It makes Shakespeare’s line ‘Eyes without feeling, feeling without sight’ an apt description. Blind Hamlet is precise and engaging. Surprisingly
for a piece that's so heavily reliant on recordings, each show is different, changing every time through the audience’s involvement. The understated script, together with the experience we've just shared with our fellow audience members, is a heady mixture. (Elliot Roberts) ■ Assembly Roxy, 623 3030, until 25 Aug (not 12, 18), 2.50pm, £14-£15 (£13-£14).
86 THE LIST FESTIVAL 7–14 Aug 2014
This is theatre in the recognisable Eastern Left-wing trade unionist Bob Cunningham
European style, a chance for the strong of stomach to bear witness to the monstrosities of a war that took place before we could watch the action streamed live on our mobiles. The noise, the smell of the liver, the thwack as it hits the pillar, the intensity created by a repetitive script and structure bring the individual horror home to every one of the senses.
No sooner have the lovers begun to plan their lives together– town or country? Two children or four? – than the dreaded whistle blows and it’s time to start fighting and chopping again. This is a relentless 50 minutes and an unpleasant reminder that there are people in their own trenches to this day. These sounds and smells are their reality. (Anna Burnside) ■ Summerhall, 560 1581, until 24 Aug (not 11), 8.30pm (& 6.30pm 12-24 Aug), £12 (£10).
(Hayman) is preparing for a meeting; tomorrow he’ll accept an OBE. We find him practising his speech, but things slowly unravel as he starts to question the party line he’s towed, his ‘strength in numbers’ mentality and Scotland’s place in the future. Chris Dolan’s script is astutely measured, and Hayman carefully captures the heart of an honourable man as conflicted by his past decisions, as he is by his part in what’s to come. He reminisces about ex-wife Ethel, his dad, his son, and bickers with his younger self, as he tries to reconcile his old ideas with the cold realities of New Labour. Dolan ensures there’s enough laughs to balance the weightier moments, and Hayman is utterly believable as a man on the crest of a new wave. (Anna Millar) ■ Assembly Rooms, 0844 693 3008, until 24 Aug (not 11), 12.30pm, £15 (£13).