A black box theatre above a pub seems like the perfect setting for Rattled.

The stage is basic, there isn’t much to it, and this works well for a one woman show where the acting and the writing is imperative.

It is dark, gloomy, our focus over a bench and with a light that swings above. It begins with flashing of lights and a hooded figure thrashing around. When the lights begin, it’s a young lady and she’s found a car holdall with a baby in it.

The narrative continues with the woman speaking a monologue; looking back at her past, at her present and inputted with moments of anxiety and worry; some directed to and about the baby in the holdall.

Rattled is a play based on true events of a woman with post-natal depression. The series of events are mixed for theatrical effect, but Rachel Harper does a very good job of bringing realism and emotion to the character. Part of me felt uneasy and a little unconvinced at times when her character continued with nervous giggling – obviously this is for theatrical purposes, but after a while it became grating and unreal.

Harper, however, is very emotional and while this may not be her story, it is obvious that she feels connected to it – this certainly gives some backing to her acting and helps it to be as natural as possible. You wanted to hug her and tell her all is okay – you want her to stop talking to her baby as someone she doesn’t know. Ultimately, you want to help.

Rattled is a wonderful play and really in-depth and true. With some work and maybe a bigger stage, Rattled could be something special and really make waves.

Cracked by Emily Hinshelwood

Pontardawe
Arts Centre, 15 Feb 19

Review by
Judi Hughes

Excellent writing from Emily Hinshelwood, who loves words and is brave enough to share hers with us

On a surprisingly balmy February evening, a warm welcome greeted us at Pontardawe Arts Centre, a busy and chatty crowd were waiting eagerly in the bar. Being a small, local theatre many people knew each other, familiar faces including that of Emily Hinshelwood exchanged greetings and created a lovely pre show atmosphere. Emily lives fairly local to Pontardawe and is fairly well known there, particularly for her poetry. She also runs the Script Café at the arts centre, a regular series of workshops with professional scriptwriters and theatre-makers to advise, critique and inspire new writing.

We headed
into the theatre and were greeted at the door by the Theatre Manager, who along
with her team has supported the production of Cracked. It is so important for
theatres to support local artists, who in return bring innovative theatre to
their programmes and audience members that follow their work. From experience I
know that this takes additional funding and a lot of hard work, so well done to
everyone who was involved in the production and touring of Cracked. The high
quality of the resulting performance must have made it all worthwhile.

The audience
were excited and talkative before the show; in front of them an impressive set,
a solid scaffold-like structure with different levels and shapes within. The bright
and clear programme helped to set the scene. The audience ranged from teenage
to older age, a real mix of people. The theatre, the welcome and the programme
delivered a safe space to those who had taken the chance tonight on a new drama
that promised to be ‘a moving, thought-provoking play about vulnerability,
mental well-being and the universal need for love’.

The cast of
5 were supported by a versatile set, clever lighting and a soundscape with
non-intrusive familiar sounds that helped to affirm the perception of place,
whether in school or by the sea. The 6^th member of the cast was a
puppet of Mick, the main character, appearing as a young boy and whose integral
part gave us the background to the story.

Whilst Mick (Tom Mumford) was the central character, each of the other players were essential to the story and all of their performances gave way to that moment where you let your imagination go and begin to believe that they really are those characters before you. Most convincing in this was Dick Bradnum in his portrayal of Mr Jackson, that brash, self-important and misguided teacher who just gets it wrong. In this moralistic tale, he also plays the voice of Dad, but never appears.

Joe Wiltshire Smith plays Stewart Skinner, the unruly pupil who’s a bit of a joker, with a hidden backstory whose offensive and defensive manner gets him into trouble. Shelby (Frances Keyton) provides the balance and understanding in her character that blends concern with clumsiness in action and words. Both build relationships with Mick that take him on a difficult path, but in the end show a much needed glimmer of hope.

Cavelle, played by Catriona James, is the character that only Mick can see, that imaginary friend, conscience and other self that we all converse with, portrayed in the form of a crow. At one moment proud, loving and supportive, at another undermining and mean, she accompanies Mick throughout the play as he makes decisions on which path to take. Along with the puppet of the young Mick, she tells the story of his past, his loss and his insecurity that leads him to the present and into the future.

Location is
important in this play, set in the South West and near to the sea. The
coastline here is a geologist’s dream with fossils, layered rocks and a history
that includes dinosaur’s footprints and volcanic eruptions. Mick teaches
Geology and it seems that the writer has a strong interest in this subject with
references to tectonic plates, trilobites and the historical shifts in land and
sea that have shaped Wales’ coastline.

The show
begins with a scene of distress, with Mick about to jump of a cliff, giving us
a glimpse of the possible future that beholds him and then melting into the
start of a school day and the beginning of this episode of his life that provides
the thought-provoking and often difficult scenes that emerge.

The play has
a good pace, moving swiftly through scenes and circumstances that confront Mick
as both the teacher and boy; a story and a sense of impending doom gradually
emerges as more information is revealed. The performance was engaging throughout;
some scene changes were a bit rough and the pace lessened towards the end, but
this portrayal of the human condition was delivered with strength and
determination.

There is
lots of humour, relevant and with underlying pathos. The play makes many
reference to issues that young people experience such as home schooling,
difficult circumstances, illness, mental health, death and loss. It recognises
the ways that society, schools in particular, deal with this and how what is
intended to protect can often cause harm. It shows human kindness and human
frailty in a way that is often difficult for the audience to watch, but gives
voice to subjects that need to be addressed.

In the
programme the writer makes it clear that it doesn’t aim to come up with
answers, but invites discussion. The workshops and daytime performances that
have gone alongside the evening shows of Cracked are very important, giving the
opportunity for teachers and secondary pupils to attend and take part. Yes,
there’s some swearing, but it’s really inoffensive and I would recommend this
play to be seen, read and studied. Cracked deserves a longer life than this
short tour.

For me, I am
part of that older audience that appreciated the play for its honesty and
bravery. For the actors who all played their parts so well and for the
excellent writing from Emily Hinshelwood, who loves words and is brave enough
to share hers with us.

If you
haven’t been there before, Pontardawe Arts Centre is a gem of a theatre, just
10 minutes’ drive from junction 45 of the M4. Check out their programme and
make a date for yourself – there are also some nice restaurants in and around
the town for pre or post show dinner. Check out their events at https://npttheatres.co.uk/pontardawe/whats-on/ .

(3 / 5)

I always feel a sense of joy when I head to the Peacock Theatre; their programming is always fun and whimsical. This is exactly what I experienced again,  on my trip this time.

A beautiful part of this production, was the initial entrance into the foyer and by the bar. A collection of Spanish speaking patrons mingling and speaking this delicious language which really set the tone for the show itself. 

Whilst in Argentina myself, I took a tango class with a short show afterwards and found this beautiful, sexy and interesting language to Tango. It’s fierce, it’s unapologetic and it has a feat of awe. 

And this show definitely hit those checkboxes. The staging is simple, with our first half in the typical 1940’s-1950’s costume, lustrous summer scene with only a bench and lamppost. The dancers have a conversation with their movement and there’s humour and plenty of elements that we all recognise – the loved up couple, the unrequited lovers, the males vs females. We enjoy the movement between them, the conversation through dance and it over all is a joyous beginning to the show. 

Our second half is more hot and steamy. The women are wearing less, the interaction is raw and fierce and it’s hard to take your eyes off them. The feat to which the woman are lifted and thrown across the male dancer’s bodies and across the stage left a few with gasps and awes. Feet moving and legs kicking at extreme pace; it is hard to ignore such ability and grace.

While a lovely show, and picking on all the elements of Tango, I didn’t feel too awe-struck or inspired. It was lovely to watch and interesting to see the skill involved but it didn’t feel too original. It felt very quintessential. 

Over all German Cornejo’s Tango Fire is something to be enjoyed. If you are ready for a show with little to complain about and sit for a nice evening, it’s a safe bet to take. You won’t come away disappointed.  But do not expect to come out speechless. 

‘All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.’ – Tolstoy 

Elin, visiting her Carmarthen family from her new life in London, meets Thomas, her old teacher, and there’s a spark between them. Bringing him back to the family home, her intent more carnal than romantic, she expects an empty house. Instead they are almost caught by her mother, Lisa.

(Nia Roberts as Lisa)

Surprised, Thomas blurts out that he was invited back for a meal, much to the daughter’s dismay and her mother’s delight, because Lisa has been looking for a boyfriend for her gay son Huw, and, mistaking Elin’s intentions, she thinks she’s found one.

(Huw, Lisa and Elin)

So begins an evening of misunderstandings, comedy and revelations. The shy Huw blooms, as does the play, from what seems like an Ayckbourn farce into something progressively darker, as old wounds are re-opened and the absent, oft mentioned father casts a pall over everything like the ghost in Hamlet.

(Sophie Melville as Elin and Jordan Bernarde as Thomas) 

What could have been stereotypes – slutty daughter, gay son, lecherous teacher and dragon mother – are, in the hands of these actors, fleshed out into real people. Helped by impressive writing and the subtle direction of Chelsey Gilard. My favourite moment being during the dinner scene, when Huw talks to Thomas, while under the table Elin caresses the teachers thigh possessively.

Writer Rhys Warrington trained as an actor, and perhaps this is why he knows to leave room for the cast to breathe life into their roles. His script is funny, engaging and sad.

Maybe it was first night nerves, the script, or the directors intent, but there was a rawness, echoing the characters on show, a feeling of slightly rough edges that need filing. Whatever the reason, I found that it enhanced the play. 

Sophie Melville gives the lippy Elin the right mix of being grown up yet still lacking maturity, and relishes her lines. In response to her mother’s “Know what we need now?” she replies waspisly “Another drink?”.

Jordan Bernarde gives the fought-over Thomas a steadiness, but hints at unshed grief over his own father’s recent death.

Playing the shy, withdrawn Huw is not easy, and it’s to Gwydion Rhys’ credit that he makes him so human, moving from boring to vulnerable and evoking our sympathy.

Nia Roberts is an actor that loves getting her teeth into a part, and here she takes the role and runs with it. Switching from monster to Mam in a second, she gives us a Lisa that is heartbroken and angry, living in past memories because the present is too painful.

There is a lot to admire in Blue, much of it familiar, especially to Welsh audiences. Rebecca Hammond founded Chippy Lane Productions to promote Welsh theatre and talent beyond Wales, and this is a prime example of it. There’s even a faint trace here of Chekhov’s The Cherry Orchard, possibly due to the presence of Matthew Bulgo as dramaturg, a cast member in the celebrated Sherman Theatre production.

Blue isn’t completely perfect and I’m glad for that, because It means that this is a writer with  space to grow, to improve. That is a very pleasing prospect for the future of Welsh drama.