One thing I did not feel for or during this show was, Pity.

Anyone who knows me, knows that I am really into ‘theatrical experiences’ or ‘immersive theatre’. Something that I studied in my MSc and eventually would like to continue into a PhD, is the concept of creating an experience in Theatre, so that the audience feels included and forgets the outside world. But, just like with The Royal Court, architecture of standard theatre’s sometimes stops this from happening.

Beginning with starting from entering the back of the building, we encounter a temporary bar, an ice cream stand, and a brass band which we are encouraged to walk through. The neon green ground creates a hypnotic and almost another-world essence of a market square, and while we feel at home, we also feel as if we are in a different world.

Pity  written by Rory Mullarkey and Directed by Sam Pritchard is a crazy and mad, roller-coaster of a ride – it encounters the most ridiculous but yet still questions important social and political aspects. Politicians are made satire, war is a satire – this little town encounters everything ridiculous and bad that could ever happen, and will never happen all at once in 24hours.

The characters begin one dimensional – they are comedic, and unlike anyone we know. But as life deteriorates, they become more relatable.

Without giving away too much, there are so many surprises, so many hilarious moments, that it’s really hard to contain any of your emotions. Yet through the chaos, it is so well constructed, so perfect and seamless, that you can’t help but have a smile and laugh constantly throughout.

It’s really hard to review this show for the pure fact it is unlike anything I have ever seen – the creation of the narrative is beyond anyone’s brain, and yet someone has created such perfection in such disaster.

Pity is, probably one of the best shows I have ever seen. It ticks every box for me, although I can fully admit, it is probably not for everyone – the way the story line and the creation, with it being so far out, may not appeal to the traditional. But, by gosh, is it bloody good!

Update : the production is transferring to the West End’s Duke of York’s Theatre for a limited season this January. Booking can be made at the highlighted link above.

I’m going to begin this review, simply with, what a lovely play.

I wouldn’t say it is extraordinary, ground breaking or shocking. But it is clever, interesting, and a new view on feminism and the Me Too movement.

Judy (Katherine Parkinson, of The IT Crowd) and her husband Johnny (Richard Harrington, Hinterland, Poldark) love the 50’s. So much so, that one day they decide that with what they have in earnings, they could live the life of a real 50’s couple. The wife as a stay at home housewife, and the husband bringing home the bacon. Their home is styled of the era; their clothing is of the time period; technology is barely visible in their lives. All in all, they have a perfect yet romanticised life.

As time continues, their lives break down, and there are cracks in this perfect life. Questions on morality and feminism becomes heightened, with Judy announcing she is a feminist as she chose this lifestyle. The lifestyle of keeping a home and her husband.

From a unusual childhood, with divorced parents, this seems like Judy’s way to make her life and her marriage perfect. But is a relationship all about the aesthetics?

The set is beautiful – a cut away house, we fully delve into the ins and outs of their lives, the bad and the good and still feeling as if we are intruding in their facade of a life.  We are fooled, with how good the beginning premise is, that when she cracks out a laptop, there is a roar of laughter – is this some multi-dimensional world? No – it’s something even stranger; a couple living in the past.

Katherine Parkinson, is one of my favourite actresses. She adapts to any character, from The IT Crowd, to The Boat that Rocked and so on – this is no different. Every element of her acting is perfection – from her pristine housewife life, where even her walk is meticulous and precise, to a flash back to her as a finance manager, who is more laid back and carefree.

Richard Harrington, to our Welsh readers, is more well known for his starring role in Hinterland. Another well established actor, he takes on this doting and fun loving husband character, with gusto. When they become extremely emotional, it is natural and a triumph to acting relationships.

Home, I’m Darling, which had it’s debut at Theatr Clwyd, features two promising and excellent Welsh performers, (supported with the character, Alex, played by Sara Gregory). It is not only a wonderful play, showcasing welsh and english talent, but also surprisingly poignant for current climate in relation to feminism.

Home, I’m Darling continues its runs at The National Theatre until the 5th of September.

Hannah Goslin

The Royal Court does a wonderful thing with it’s writing/writers. There always tends to be a simple premise – a production will often start as normal as possible, with it then changing and surprising you through time.

Instructions for Correct Assembly, written by Thomas Eccleshare and directed by Hamish Pirie features a plain family – Mother, Father and Son. They have fun neighbours who are their best friends, who boast excellent children which always feels like a comparison. Their home is perfect, precise and generally like an Ikea show room.

There is a difference to this story however – as time goes by we see flash backs of their son who finds himself deteriorating in life; their struggle to help and eventually their resistance after the last straw. And once he is gone, their need to fill the void. In this futuristic world, the void is in the shape of a robot son.

The narrative is relatable even though the events seem a little impossible in our current world. We relate to the characters, feel what they feel, laugh at the right parts, but we also question how we would take the situation.

Jane Horrocks, of Little Voice and Ab Fab fame takes a front seat in this production as our mother. She is as homely and approachable as a stereotyped mother is. It’s nice to see her in a more ‘ordinary’ role in comparison to the hyper-comical characters we are used to seeing her in.

Mark Bonnar, known for Shetland and Apple Tree Farm is the doting husband and father who is easily bent by his son. He does well to play this goody-teacher type but together with Horrocks, evokes the emotion and feelings of a Mother and Father duo who are distress and worry for their son.

Brian Vernel does a fantastic job in a double role as our robot and the human son. His movements in comparison to the two characters are distinguished and differentiate them very easily. But he is also believable. As if this situation is real in our current society.

My only issue with the acting is at times when they have been instructed to move in jumpy motions, I can only assume to represent ‘models’/’robots at their basic moments, but this doesn’t feel like it fits. While I can see what they have done and why, and it does seem fitting, it just felt disjointed to the process of the production.

A review cannot be left without a comment on the staging and lighting/sound. Design is by Cai Dyfan and lighting by Jack Knowles. The Royal Court is known for its unusual take on these and this is no exception. For the ‘perfect’ family, the rooms look like they are all made of Ikea furniture and works well with the narrative, especially as the characters like to build flat packs. Slowly as the perfection breaks down, parts of the staging come away, revealing more emptiness, possibly close to how they feel. Finally a large natural wall of flowers and fauna appears at the back – an argument against robotics in comparison to naturalism? For whatever reason, this adds such depth and interest to the so far basic, perfect rooms.

Instructions for Correct Assembly is an interesting and inventive piece of theatre. While the concept of the breakdown of robotics in our future is a common topic, there is something more human and certainly different to similar writings.

This little black box of a room is unexpected in The Actors Centre, London, but lovely none the less.

Faced with a slanted bed, Tracey Emin-style mess around it and red wired lights above, it is a simple but provocative set.

Love Me Now sends us on the journey of one woman, her want for love, her mixed relationships and the general lifestyle of single, young people in Britain.

Without delving too personal, the narrative is full of situations, conversations, thoughts, feelings and actions that are not unusual for a 20-30 something these days. How anyone only meets through online apps; women being chastised to this day about their sexual prowess but men still looking like the true ‘stud’ for the same actions; the fear of sexual abuse; and the characters we all relate to.

Alistair Toovey plays the cool bad boy that every girl has fallen for – the one who somewhere deep down cares but realistically is too frightened themselves to really let down their guard. But full of masculinity, he sees Helena Wilson’s character as nothing but a sex object, when once they were friends despite his arguments against this.  Toovey is the right kind of stand-offish but with the right amount of charm that we still fall for him, like Wilson.

Wilson’s character is full of insecurities; the one guy (Toovey) who completely rocks her world turns her into something she no longer recognises and that leaves her unsure of what she is doing, what she wants and what she believes. A character played so well that any woman could project themselves into her spot.

Gianbruno Spena has a small but still vital role – playing the boy after Toovey’s character has left, he is nice enough, not as fun or interesting as the bad boy but also a complete opposite – believing women shouldn’t swear, very traditional and very… urgh. Spena plays a great part, still bringing this character to fruition but also, with Barnette’s writing, is able to still become ‘like all men’ and still think and see that same things in Wilson that Toovey did.

She is still an untouchable – not worth anything.

Barnette has done well to take all insecurities, situations and actions from today’s dating and sex scene and transformed it into one short play. She summarises how women and indeed how men feel, and highlights a culture where we define our personal worth on a romantic outcome.

Love Me Now is funny, meaningful and really in keeping with today’s society. If you have ever had a bad date, loved the bad boy/girl, or just didn’t feel good enough, you will relate to Barnette’s play.

Hannah Goslin

!THIS REVIEW MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS!

What do you evoke in your mind when you hear “a serious play about World War II?

1) Would it not be serious anyway?
2) This is going to be full of meaning, of tears, there will be horses… oh wait, that’s War Horse!
3) By no means will you create in you heads what actually happens.

The first 10 minutes is hammed up, not very PC and in this way shocking. We come in believing that we have come to see a War play and some how they are degrading the entirety of it but they are serious about what they are doing. A Jewish man is in the front row, obviously very upset – this is meant to be based on his story of the Holocaust and yet they are making a mockery of it.

And then this very awkward play becomes something different. It’s a play within a play. A farce. Our real play begins when everything goes wrong and the performers must find their way out of the mess they have made. There’s a low budget essence of Mischief Theatre with The Play that Goes Wrong and it’s later counterparts. And to be able to do ‘stunts’ without a large traditional theatre basis and all the theatrical tricks that come with that is brilliant.

It’s full of manic, frenzy and endless comedy. It is ridiculous yet brilliant and a real surprise to what we not only expected to see but also from what we began watching. Awkwardness becomes falling off your seat with laughter. The un PC moments become farcical events going wrong. And we finally breath a sigh of relief that it is not some racist, not very well thought out production but a very clever trick.

A Serious Play About World War II is full of hilarity, surprises and not for the weak stomach (just you wait and see why!).  And they are a pretty swell company to boot.

Hannah Goslin

Sometimes interesting theatre is simple theatre.

Welcomed into a blank canvas of a room, there are only two performers on stools, and a mirror suspended behind.

With no prior knowledge (I personally avoid this before shows so that I am surprised and can deduce my own conclusions and interpretations) it is daunting to see such little to the room of a performance.

We are handed a blank piece of white paper and are smiled at one performer and almost frowned by the other.

As the title suggests , AI Love You features a) love and b) robotics. Now stay with me – this is no sci-fi, out of this world, incapable apocalyptic world where everything is alien and new. This is actually a heartfelt production, questioning morals and seeing the inside of a relationship.

April and Adam are a couple. A normal relationship, they are in love and… April is a robot. Created to be Adam’s ‘perfect woman’ , she has now reached a point where she is breaking, ‘malfunctioning’ and plans to end her life. But Adam is against it as he loves her. For all intense and purposes, they seem like a general couple with all the feelings and experiences any would, and if this was two human’s it would be a difficult decision, suicide, anyway but morals are questioned when you consider that April is an AI.

The great thing about this piece is the set up – we are fully included. Like a court room trial, we hear each side of their cases which is ordered by the facility that made her and are asked to vote who we agree with. And so we can only assume they have prepared alternative options dependent on the vote conclusions. This in itself is pretty impressive when you think that these performers have potentially learnt two different scripts.

April is at times cold and well… robotic, at times breaking into recognisable sensitivity and love but is still different to the obvious torment Adam is facing. And it works well, and gels in a way you would not think it would.

Adam is more comedic, almost dry in humour but little of this is given to April which I feel lacked with continuity – if there is an element of comedy then it needs to run through with both performers.

However, over all the concept and writing is brilliant. When reading the blurb after the show, they performers also change who is the robot and who is human, and this makes me wonder how changed is the performance and does it change what we think and how we would vote.

AI Love You is heartbreaking but also a very intelligent production – of something that with recent news… well who knows, could it become true?