Social media seems to run our lives. It can be for the positive but it often is about trolls, about racism, about discrimination; there are no secrets, everyone is able to say anything about anyone or any thing. Celebrities lives are even more under the microscope and as time has gone by, so are the lives of ordinary people.

Seven Methods of Killing Kylie Jenner is a laid bare look at the dangers of having a voice, of fighting for those things that should be fought for. On cultural appropriation, of the black community and racism, prejudice, blacking up and whitening selves to fit beauty standards, of queerness and what that means, and how having a voice doesn’t always mean you are in the right.

We are first confronted with the Royal Court stage split into two – either side of the stage the audience sits, as if the play has been dissected for our viewing and those fourth walls are even more broken down, adding to the lack of privacy the narrative examines. A giant tree made of lights and string is in front of us, later breaking down – a feature point of the stage while beautiful, later feels rather sinister.

In true Royal Court style, a “normal” natural play is hyper-realised and the addition of staging, of props, of theatrical tricks, sound, lights, propelling us into a different reality versus the ordinary conversation between the two characters. These conversations are full of colloquialisms of modern black communities, of comedy of the current times, of references of the current times and therefore is a very “millennial” play. Hearing a older audience member after, some references to twitter went over their heads but this isn’t necessarily a bad thing. This play really does force itself onto the current society and ask the questions that aren’t fully realised, as this generation is the one that can change the wrongs.

While extremely clever, the narrative is punctured by almost god-like, robotic-like, dark voices that echo the comments, the retweets, the decent and darkness of social media and the character, Cleo’s, decent into dangerous territories, however these vocal effects and overlapping sometimes hinders the impact and ability to hear these. I fear that many of the “trolling” points are missed when covered by these soundscape effects.

Seven Methods of Killing Kylie Jenner sounds extreme, and it is. It is a very raw and laid bare look at hypocritical people in our society, their anger at freedom of speech yet their own freedom expressing dark and dangerous viewpoints. It analyses how racism and homophobia is still rife despite being a “woke society”. It’s just a shame that the theatrical elements hinder the clarity of these somewhat.

(3 / 5)

The title of this play, in itself should give you an inclining to its concept and writing. Blunt, dark, surely to take you by the lapels and shake you.

The Death of a Black Man, written by Alfred Fagon in the 70’s is a raw and laid bare story about black culture in the UK and the development of generations from the Windrush movement and London itself. There is no beating around the bush with this play and it takes a lot to sit and watch with its darkness seeping in slowly.

The Death of a Black Man tells the story of Shackie, his career development as a wheeler dealer in London, his battle with his own heritage and how far he will go to make it as a black man in a still very difficult and competitive society with race. Soon, his equally minded best friend comes along, selling his ideas and the two concoct ideas of exploitation of the white man, to make money but also to support black power. Starkly contrasted, Shackie’s older ex girlfriend appears, a black woman but from a middle class background, lacking an interest in her heritage and support of the movement. It is soon evident that these two will stop at nothing to make it in this world, even if it means betraying those in their own community.

Fagon limits nothing in this play. The language is of its time, with words and phrases perhaps not said today, making it shocking and at times awkward – but as this play grows darker and darker, this feeling is clever and well executed and only adds to the tension and the final crescendo. What is brilliant is there is nothing held back about Caribbean and London Black community culture, highlighting the development of these 2nd Windrush generations with their joint use of London and Caribbean phrasing and accents as they intertwine. As someone from neither community, this takes a little time to feel yourself in the swing of the writing and how it is produced but feeling the energy of those in the audience from these communities, it feels as if it is on point and reflective of those communities. It also gives a great insight into the culture of the time and how those communities were feeling, contrasting views between Shackie, who is happy to just create a career and utilise his heritage to get there; Stumpy who is a developing activist for Black Power with a underlying hatred for white people and the country he is in and Jackie, whose middle class background has washed away any interest in her heritage but who is as dark and cynical as the other two about life.

With only three performers, it felt as if we had cut away into this living room and was easily watching a normal conversation. Their acting was effortless and easy, with the added 70’s aesthetic making this feel like a piece of history. It felt very reflective of what you usually see at The Royal Court which is always very well done – something simple and naturalistic, with elements of theatricality bursting through. In this case, the conversation acts out naturally and a change of scene brings in the contrasting theatricality with music, lighting; the stage and scene changes before our eyes as the characters almost fasten up time, moving props and staging which would have happened naturally throughout several hours as they drink champagne into the night. The final part felt particularly theatrical, with naturalism taken away and symbolism and theatricality added to enhance the darkness of the writing.

My only critique is that it felt as if these natural, spoken scenes took too long and didn’t add or emphasise much by doing so. Fagon, sadly, writes about Shackie’s fathers death which unfortunately mirrored the writers own, little did he know. And while a brilliantly written play, it felt as if much of this production was trying to keep to its legacy, with a fear of maybe changing too much, cutting too much out or bringing it to the modern stage. Perhaps the fear of changing it and therefore it no longer being a homage to Fagon held it back in what it could have become. Points and elements, which as previously said were very much of the time, felt a little like it went over my head but I can definitely appreciate that this may be because I wasn’t alive in the 70’s to understand the references or culture, as well as the Carribbean/London Black Community not being my community. I would be really interested to hear from a reviewer of this community to know how reflective this really is and how it relates to the modern community.

The Death of a Black Man is interesting, it is dark, it is cleverly executed but something felt lacking and as if it really held back what is really possible with this production.

(4 / 5)

In our industry, there is often questions, perhaps never elaborated on fully when it comes to what actors go through. This is even more troublesome and often taboo when it comes to young performers.

Look Who’s All Grown Up by Abigail Chandler lays the taboo and secrets bare, without letting you ignore or look away. A coming out story of sorts, we meet two young performers who have reached the point of changing in their personal lives from children to adults but also in their performance careers. Highlighting issues with puberty in both the personal and professional but also what this means for their development in both areas and how quickly things can change.

We see three viewpoints – from a male, from a female and from an LGBTQA+ person. All similar yet staggeringly different, the three character’s stories are compared and contrasted, in experience, in opportunities and also in the unspoken – the Me Too movement and its application to child stars of any gender, but what this also means when you yourself transition from being the child to the adult in awkward situations.

Look Who’s All Grown up is carefully constructed to ease you into this headspace, and so when things become heated or awkward, you feel it in your gut, yet cannot look away. The character of Felix particularly lays everything bare, with a sense of humour and it isn’t until later that you can really understand the trauma it has caused. You fall in love with him yourself, not only with Chandler’s writing but Daniel Bravo’s effortless acting, adding a level of whether this is okay in relation to the topic, seriously highlighting the issues between the transition of child actors to adult actors.

Caitlin, played by Kalifa Taylor also shows a very good contrasting character and her personal growth, from an anxious girl with mental health issues to someone confident, knowing her worth but perhaps escaping the stories we hear of sexual misconduct with women and young ones at that. It was refreshing to have a strong woman character, helping the male character when these stories are often over looked.

Look Who’s All Grown Up is quirky, it is humorous but also highlights important points that are rarely laid bare and hits you in the gut with these facts.

(5 / 5)

Who would have ever thought that Samuel Beckett and Madonna would ever be thrown together in a play?

No one, till now.

Godot is a Woman, by Silent Faces, is nothing short of a masterpiece. If, like me (and Silent Faces), you are a huge fan of Samuel Beckett, particularly his play “Waiting For Godot”, and a liberal feminist, then the title alone is enough to tickle your fancy.

I try not to read too much about a production or a company before I see a show. I like to be thrown in the deep end and figure it out for myself. No presumptions or expectations. And am I glad I did for this one.

We meet 3 performers who want to put on Waiting For Godot. They reflect the original play by waiting for the Beckett Foundation to answer their call for the rights. As time goes by, the 3 battle with the reasonings on why they would be refused, a lot stemming from past beliefs in society, and hugely and predominantly focused on gender politics.

There’s an element of people who have a love/hate relationship with someone. Beckett, while a brilliant writer, specified that Waiting For Godot could not be played by females or anyone other than male, to loosely include non-binary people; I say loosely as this was never specified, in the terms of “Only a male can play these roles” way. This is thrown out in the open and discussed through performance – and it makes you feel something not necessarily easy about your own love for the play and playwright but in a good way, because it is important to address.

Silent Faces evoke the pauses, the silence, the staccato word play of Beckett when working through these thoughts. They bring in hilarious and highly hammed up characters in a pretend court room to highlight different facts and fables from both sides of the argument which in itself highlights the ridiculous nature of even having to argue gender for a play about self discovery.

They bring in elements that bring the whole play into the 21st century – instead of waiting for a person, they wait by a telephone that has a recorded message while they wait alerting them to the website. They bring in almost Brechtian elements, surprising us with dancing and music, such as Madonna, that would never have been seen in the style of Beckett. They give us a brief history of feminism and gender equality through music, dance and summaries of important elements from selected years e.g. Harvey Weinstein and the Me Too movement, androgynous celebrities and so on. And most importantly, highlights are brought onto Non-Binary persons. A exploration of the Beckett foundation’s elimination of anyone not male playing these faithful parts, including those who do not identify as either male or female and whether this is a sign of the times or something more. Again, we are thrown into history, learning something new about gender politics and how non-binary has been in lots of different cultures for thousands of years and that changing in times is not an excuse.

Godot is a Woman is hilarious, insightful, polished, educational and a brilliant production. While you feel a little uneasy as a Beckett fan, the fact it makes you question society and whether his approach would have changed makes it all the more interesting, making you further question the world we are in and the arts sector.