An arts centre I used to work with would hire out its venue to a successful amateur company every year.  They would fill its seats for three nights.  This provided valuable income, as the centre struggled to attract audiences to professional touring work, even when this was of high quality.  One type of event required subsidy; the other was self-funding.  Interestingly, the audience who turned out regularly for the amateur company, who might have seemed to be theatre enthusiasts, did not attend other types of performance.

UK society is compartmentalised, often as a result of economics, with people falling into particular camps – those who follow jazz but not folk music; those who read novels but not poetry; those who enjoy photography but not modern art.  People are often sure they know what they like and are unwilling to risk a night or day out, with its attendant costs, if there is a risk of not enjoying what is on offer. 

It’s not a question of skill levels.  Professional productions in whatever genre are likely to be technically superior and professional performers and artists are likely to be better trained and more experienced than amateurs, but their work may not be accessible.  Both the work and its interpreters, because they are famous and established, and the places where it is to be seen may be considered ‘not for the likes of us’.  Alternative offerings, like amateur productions, seem less pretentious. 

Then there is the obvious but very significant point that the arts economy cannot support more than a fraction of those with talent and a passion for what they do.  Fringe cultural activity is sometimes excellent.  Many amateurs might have been professionals.

Which is a roundabout introduction to the British Final of One Act Plays, the culmination of a festival now 99 years old but one that goes under the radar.  The event is run by the United Kingdom Community Drama Festivals Federation, a partnership of organisations in England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland.  Every year, after a series of eliminating rounds, the best one act play to be performed by an amateur company – or community group as they prefer to be known – from each country, is entered into an adjudicated final.  Detailed feedback is given and the winners take home the Howard de Walden Trophy (donated by Thomas Evelyn Scott-Ellis, 8th Baron Howard de Walden—apparently a prominent British peer and a ‘patron of the arts’.)  The annual event is thus large-scale.  This year its final was held at Theatr Clwyd, as part of the celebrations for the 50th anniversary of the opening of Theatr Clwyd itself.

Not grasping how the event is organised (read the publicity…) I only attended on one night, the Saturday, seeing the Scottish and Welsh entries but not the Northern Irish and English ones.  This was a pity as the English entry, ‘The Weight of Small Things’ by Tilly Lane, performed by TACT – Total Arts Community Theatre – was judged the best of the four.  TACT, based in Tamworth have no permanent theatre base but this doesn’t seem to hold them back as they have won the competition more than once.

Despite missing out on TACT, it was worth going to see Aberdeen-based Bon Accord Players’ take on Metamorphoses, an adaptation of several of Ovid’s stories, and Penarth Operatic & Dramatic Society’s All By Myself by Robert Scott. (The event provides a platform for original writing as well as versions of the classics.  Works by Chekov, Jim Cartwright, Pinter, John Godber, Arthur Miller and Alan Bennet have won in the past.)

I might not have been so generous in my feedback as this year’s adjudicator, Jennifer Scott-Reid, but she had a difficult task, being required to chose quickly between what were quite different shows.  However, she was thorough and detailed in her comments and hearing them added to the general interest of the occasion. 

I agreed that the adaptation of Metamorphoses by the American playwright and director Mary Zimmerman, then reworked by Sami Ibrahim, Laura Lomas and Sabrina Mahfouz, was original and ambitious.  It gave considerable scope to four energetic and ingenious performers who had to interpret a range of characters on a minimal set.  It was good to be reconnected with these once-famous stories, the only drawback being they are complete mini-narratives in themselves and collectively do not constitute a dramatic process. 

Also, while I followed the stories of Arachne and Orpheus with interest, I think the performance missed emphasising the meanings behind these myths.  The first illustrates the danger of thinking you are The Greatest (Weaver) Of All Time; the second reminds us even True Love cannot conquer death.  To make their show truly relevant, Bon Accord might, too, have linked the story of Baucis and Philemon to current attitudes towards foreigners and immigration. In Ovid’s telling of the tale, an elderly couple are rewarded for their spontaneous generosity towards two destitute strangers by being allowed to die at the same time.  They then live on as intertwined trees, in a poetic image that today has considerable political resonance.

All By Myself could not have been more different.  It’s a quick-fire farce based on a simple situation – that of being cast away on a desert island – and a lot of fun is had playing with the idea of what happens when one Crusoe finds out he is not alone.  I thought the Penarth cast were confident and committed. Their comic timing was spot-on.  Considerable attention had been paid to their costume and appearance and to the set.  Anyone who appreciates live theatre would have enjoyed this little show which made the audience on the night laugh out loud repeatedly.  My only cavil is that, of course, it remains a farce, a built-up sketch in which a straight man is confronted by a team of clowns.  It does not pretend to be anything other than light entertainment and it does rework a number of ideas (and jokes) that have been tackled before.  It might have benefited from a silly song or two and it could even have included some slapstick.

It’s important to mention that there were no wooden performances or any corpsing.  There was no need for prompting and none of the scenery looked as if it would collapse.  In short, there were none of the common and embarrassing weaknesses of amateur (or community) work which we have learned to expect and which we have to forgive.  I saw two pieces of strong ensemble work in which lines were delivered clearly by performers moving naturally and even gracefully around the stage.  The acting throughout was as good as anything you’d see on TV.  The pieces performed suited the talents and aspiration of the companies, something that cannot always be said of professional shows.

Might the National Theatre might consider hosting this event in the future?  As it is well attended, there would be no loss of revenue.  The National could confer some prestige on work that is popular.  Hosting the final on the South Bank would recognise a sector of the UK theatre community which, at its best, is worth celebrating.

Simon Kensdale

Image Credit Kirsten McTernan

(5 / 5)

Please note this review contains strong language, mature content and detailed description of the plot.

Physical Education, written by Jonathan Houlston (who also plays Joe) and directed by Richard Mylan, is a play about how mental health and masculinity affects teenage boys, explored across many scenes and set entirely in one room.

As you walk into the theatre space, the atmosphere immediately gives off a sense of the changing room at school. It’s intimate, there’s nowhere to hide: seats on three sides of the stage, a block of lockers in the middle, and the speakers play grungy, garage-type music. Electronic, repeated sounds, with a good bass. There is more of this type of music throughout. It sets the scene, complimenting the youthful but dark themes the show explores.

The show opens with a song about smashing and a guy walks onto the stage in football kit, looking into the audience, before a bunch of lads come on holding a bench each. They jump around, showing themselves off as ‘hard’, shouting and taunting. You can practically smell the testosterone. They set the benches down and begin changing into their kit ready for PE, talking to each other.

There’s lots of offensive and harsh language in this play: the way they talk about women, banging them, mentioning their cocks, different ways they describe sex, showing off that they could ‘pull any bird’, what they’d make the woman do, but also, a lot of it is them bullying each other (played off as ‘just banter’). They put each other down, teasing about their body count, being fat, being too ‘weak’. They even use gay or the ‘f’ slur as an insult (which I can’t believe is still an insult), and once we find out that two of the boys are gay and dating each other, it hits even harder. It’s very shocking and not easy to listen to at times. The audience are not eased into the subject matter at all, we are thrown straight into it, and it’s very fast-paced. But I think that is so effective.

There’s lots of comedy in it too, even during the sharp bits of dialogue, but that only adds to the themes even more, and the production utilises transitions and sound well, including having school noise and an underlying bass in certain sections to add tension.

It’s excellent at examining what it really means to be masculine vs feminine, strong vs weak, being true to yourself vs hiding, hurting and pain, the different experiences everyone has, their relationships, and why that might lead them to the choices they make.

The biggest bully and the one with the foulest language is a lad called Jason. His closest friend is Joe, and he’s quite nasty in his ‘banter’ to everyone, but he even bullies Joe. He spikes Joe on two occasions: in a party we don’t see and in the Halloween party we do, by adding more vodka to his drink and getting him to sniff some drugs. He doesn’t see it as spiking, however. This is probably how he, and boys like him in the real world, live with the decisions they make. Adding labels such as ‘spiking’ your mate makes it sound really negative, so he just describes it as ‘only topping up Joe’s drink’. He makes Max kneel in front of him and open his mouth in one scene when there is no one else there in the changing room, and he walks up to him. His privates and Max’s mouth are very close to each other. His attitude towards women is very derogatory and objectifying.

But the show is really good at showing every perspective. The reason he reacts like this is because of his home life. It’s never stated but fairly obvious, as one day he turns up with bruising around his eye and makes up a different lie each time he’s asked about it. Later on, it’s just him and Miss Rider, the teacher, in the changing room, and it seems like he’s about to open up. We can hear voices in his head shouting that he’s a ‘f****** waste of space’, implying that his home dynamic and the bruise are related (we can work out the rest). Just as he’s beginning to speak, one of the lads comes in. The moment is lost. Who knows what might have happened if he’d have been able to speak about it?

It all comes to a head at the Halloween party, and we see what can happen if we allow young men to think that speaking in the way that they do is acceptable. Also, if they stay silent and don’t challenge people when they hear it, this language will remain. It is damaging and hurtful to women, as well as to boys themselves. They need help despite how tough they feel pressured appearing.

Physical Education is a brilliant take on mental health and how your relationships and childhood shape who you are, especially for boys in the current climate. It’s fast-paced and not afraid to touch on the darkest of topics, but it also makes you laugh.

I urge everyone to come and see this play at the Grand Theatre.