Chav is a performed and written by Kelly Green, the play foretells Kelly Green’s internal story from when she was a girl developing in to a woman finding herself and articulating her voice as a lady, who was a single mum who felt disconnected to society and affiliated to labels by judgmental critics in her community.

All photo credits Ali Wright

We see how fate was a gateway for her to escape her pain and permitted an escape for her to willingly explore herself as a PHD student, artist and employee. Her performance cultivates awareness of a captivating society that’s held within a social culture, easily lost and withdrawn from the torment inflicted in to young females, who may also be struggling to adjust to life, fitting into the stereotype of a chav.

Chav is an immersive, sticky and engaging solo play; an autobiographical journey expressing academic discrimination, family complexities, class struggles, judgments, political support, working- class female identity and internal conflicts circulated around growing up in anger from not being taken seriously by the masses. This play is a testimonial in to what middle class individuals’ life can detect growing up feeling detached from home, school and portraying a stereotypical chav in their social life.

Chav is fused with breaking fourth wall elements, projections, hysterical clichés and frustrations, exportation of an exact depiction of the struggle. The audience experiences phases of a rave feel with a depiction of the sentimental feelings and the fabrication of England. This production is enticed with expressions and intimate real life moments and powerful emotions which we can all relate to in spite of our class.

Tanica Psalmist

Hopeless is a solo production, written and performed by Leyla Josephine.  The beginning started off with overwhelming music that was reflective of tragic love lives, sung by Adele and Sam Smith. Leyla was presented mid stage with a huge, snuggly duvet over her head in bed; which conveyed how bed at times is our dwelling place to escape from the world as well as a nest to rest our minds when we’ve exhausted ourselves and have no more energy to persevere.

Hopeless contained compelling, empowering and outspoken, spoken word performed by Leyla that drastically tackled political and social aspects demoralising our system, persona, mind-sets and attitude in our everyday lives to create change and aspire our everyday life choices. The hysterical elements were when Leyla would use breaking the fourth wall techniques, as it instantly helped form a relaxing atmosphere and a connection to her character as she wore no makeup, was shameless about voicing her opinion and shared personal experiences she encountered during her stay at a children’s refugee camp.

Hopeless is a stimulating production, as Leyla takes you on an epic emotional rollercoaster of deep, thought provoking content in poetical form of the global dysfunctions that surround us but we may act oblivious to; to avoid discussion due to us feeling helpless or hopeless to concern ourselves if the problem isn’t an inflicting issue within our community.

Leyla from the start of the play states that it’s not an ordinary play the audience has come to watch but a self-awareness piece, with realisation of how feeling hopeless can affect our consciousness and she artistically paints a vivid description to why humanity does feel hopeless; breaking down the counterparts of climate change, why disasters can be sexy, how the news at times forgets the human parts, emptiness in bank balances, expression of the ‘big boys’ highlighting the rich get richer and poor gets poorer concept and metaphorically referring to how lives can feel like the sinking of the titanic when life gets too tough!

Hopeless is an eye-opening, convicting and rational play; which presents healing of the mind and inspiring words during her spoken word pieces, an enlightening, factual performance.

Tanica Psalmist

Exodus follows Mary (Gwenllian Higginson), the disillusioned manager of her local River Island, who alongside her old schoolmate Gareth (Berwyn Pearce), mute violinist Kujtim (Karim Bedda), and middle-aged ex-serviceman Raymond “Raymondo” Jenkins (Liam Tobin), decide to fly away from it all in an old plane Raymond’s keeping in his allotment.

From the get-go, one of the most immediately engaging qualities of Exodus is the sheer exuberance of the cast. Their emotion across both jovial and sombre scenes was contagious by the sheer energy and precision given to each movement and utter of punctuation in Rachael Boulton’s direction of her own script. Indeed, one of the greatest strengths here is the timing of the piece and its performances, the sense of rhythm and punch in the work being palpable. While the level of energy here can occasionally be overbearing, with Pearce and Tobin’s performances remaining distracting until some more sincere moments later in the play, the three speaking parts are effectively counteracted by Bedda’s pinpointedly monolithic performance as Kujtim.

As the play progresses, Boulton’s script settles into a familiar mix of scene types, with the piece consisting of a rigidly separated pattern of traditional multi-character dialogue scenes, purely physical theatre scenes, and lengthy monologues given by each character. While certain comedic scenes drag on somewhat, and I found some of the physical theatre to be removing time from what could have been the progression of Exodus’s genuinely engaging characters, the pattern in scene construction here keeps the play fresh and varied to prevent these issues from fully manifesting.

It is in the play’s many monologues where the writing, direction and performances truly shine, with characters reflecting on their pasts and expressing topics as varied as their passion for the Valleys, and disenchantment with modern society. While these moments present character reveals rather than any overt sense of interaction or progression, the writing is handled with a deftness which effortlessly blends personal histories with wider societal commentary and various thematic samplings. Indeed, the monologue format is subverted in one of the piece’s most powerful moments, a violin solo by Kujtim which acts as much as an elegiac cry as any of the spoken word monologues given by the other cast members.

Ultimately, it is the blend of such subtly sorrowful moments with the sense of abundant joy, personality and hopefulness elsewhere which truly lifts Exodus off the ground. I was lucky enough to meet Rachael Boulton and hear about both her approach to the piece and her plans for the future of the Motherlode Theatre Company. With Exodus’ strong ties to community, creativity and opportunity being thoroughly present in Boulton and Motherlode’s aims ahead, this is a piece and group well worth seeking out and supporting.

The production is currently on tour

The multi award-winning Mischief Theatre company, of The Play that Goes Wrong fame, returns to Cardiff with their new Olivier Award-nominated show: The Comedy About a Bank Robbery. Branded as Ocean’s Eleven meets the Marx Brothers, it follows the zany antics of a motley crew of would-be crooks as they attempt to steal a priceless diamond from the city bank.

Written by, but not starring, Mischief makers Henry Lewis, Jonathan Sayer and Henry Shields (who were last seen at the New Theatre as a Disney hero, a sadistic narrator, and an anthropomorphic Sylvester Stallone-voiced lasagne respectively), Bank Robbery is yet another winning production in Mischief Theatre’s highly-renowned repertoire.

The cast are brilliant across the board, from Liam Jeavons’ mercurial mastermind Mitch Ruscitti (channelling Nicolas Cage via Peter Serafinowicz), to Damian Lynch as the suavely slippery bank manager Robin Freeboys, and Julia Frith as his creatively cunning daughter Caprice. However, a few performers stood out among the excellent ensemble: David Coomber as the enthusiastic prison guard-turned-amateurish-crook Neil Cooper, Seán Carey as lovable con artist Sam Monaghan who becomes increasingly (and grudgingly) embroiled in the progressively perplexing con, and George Hannigan who is credited as ‘everyone else’, and impressively performs a fight scene as three different characters.

There are some absolute standout scenes here: the prison escape  (no spoilers, it’s right at the start) is hilarious and endlessly inventive, on the level of Wes Anderson’s Fantastic Mr Fox. They manage to draw lots of laughs from the way in which the actors portray windscreen wipers, and there’s a really entertaining car chase using laundry hampers (yes, really). And if you do go (which I recommend you do), just look out for a flock of seagulls who might just be the jewel in the crown of this show.

This being a scripted show, I hold it to a higher standard than the completely-improvised Mischief Movie Night – and, as such, not everything lands. Jon Trenchard plays Warren Slax, the bank’s (Paul) Reubens-esque pariah, and is often used as the show’s whipping boy, to the point where it oversteps into upsetting territory – culminating in the scene where Freeboys hits him repeatedly with a book, a cane and a desk. The Freeboys/ three boys confusion wears out long before they give up the ghost; and some scenes, storylines and character interactions feel a little forced or on-the-nose (even for a farce). But the enthusiasm and talent of the cast more than make up for any missteps.

Even if the show wasn’t great (it is), it would be worth seeing for the innovative production design alone. David Farley’s set design is incredible, starting out with a silhouetted skyline of New York at night that effortlessly folds out into a whole slew of different settings as the play goes on. The set design works hand in hand with David Howe’s sublime lighting design, which at one point transforms a bare stage into an utterly entrancing underwater environment. And there’s an incredibly effective bit of staging where they make the back wall look like the office floor from a birds eye view, and simply has to be seen to be believed. This is the kind of magic you can only get at the theatre, and worth the price of admission alone.

Performing at the New Theatre through to 13^th October, The Comedy About A Bank Robbery is an absolutely unmissable night of splendidly silly fun!

Suspend your disbelief and fly Exodus airways

(4 / 5)

Motherlode are a relatively new theatre company, directed by writer and dramatist Rachael Boulton. After training in London, she says “coming back home is the best thing I ever did”, her connection to and understanding of Valleys life in Wales is reflected in their new play Exodus.

The work shows us life on two levels – one of four very different people, drawn together by circumstance, who bravely take the chance to escape everyday Valleys life to go to Cuba in a light aircraft (don’t expect realism here!) and the more detailed experience of the female character, a manager in Peacocks whose main job is to discipline, hire and fire people in the shop. In true Valleys style she describes how, in between family crises, she tries to keep her own job and do it well. On orders from above she has the difficult task of disciplining a woman who is clearly on the edge and this doesn’t end well for either of them.

Exodus is a devised work, developed by the whole team under Rachael Boulton’s directions. Because of that and because they are genuinely skilled performers, the actors quickly inhabit their roles and are able to make their ridiculous ambition to fly to Cuba, using the local high street as a runway, almost believable. Each has their own story to tell, conveyed with humour, energy and a solo violin.

With underlying serious issues about the struggles and problems of working class Valleys people, Rachael Boulton and her team have created a funny, clever, relevant and thought provoking piece of theatre that strikes a chord with its audience; a reaction that can be heard in their laughter and the warmth of their response. With just a few tweaks, it could enjoy the success of its predecessor The Good Earth.

The strong Valleys accent of Mary meant that I sometimes missed words so although very important, it could be toned down slightly. If there is other criticism to be had, for me it was the programme. Whilst presented in a clever format, it wasn’t easy to read with small print and colours that are difficult to discern for people with sight impairment. There was also scant information on the company’s website about the cast and the background to the show. I’d really like to know the full backstory to Exodus and the ambitions of Motherlode. Oh and if you’re going to use stage smoke, do it properly or not at all – the intermittent wisps that I presume were meant to represent clouds didn’t do anything except distract.

Motherlode is supported by RCT Theatres and was created and performed at the Coliseum, Aberdare as part of their 80^th anniversary celebrations. In my opinion this is the best way forward for local theatres, to support their own and create strong Welsh drama, already internationally renowned and requiring constant investment. Their support of Motherlode should be applauded and I hope that the Arts Council of Wales, who helped to fund this show, are able to give the company much more support in the future.

Exodus is not laugh-out-loud like a Frank Vickery play, but it does have echoes of the same concern and observation of the lives of Valleys people; their humour, their frustrations, their sorrow and their sheer resilience and ambition that lifts them out of their everyday lives. Hopefully a new generation of theatre goers will be able to appreciate it and fill the theatres like Frank did. Suspend your disbelief and climb aboard Exodus airways, it’s better than Easyjet!

The production is currently on tour and more information can be found here

Review by Judi Hughes

The Oreo Complex is a solo production, written and performed by Isaac-Ouro-Gnao. The beginning starts off with rooted and enchanted African tribal music produced by Ffion-Cambell-Davies. The audience were seated in a circular formation absorbing the subtle, repetitive tribal moves. Isaac positioned in the centre of the space was perfect to capture his worried facial expressions when saying the word ‘Oreo’ to himself, his traditional African clothing as well as the comfortability of him being in his skin; which was conveyed through the fluidity in his movement.

Slowly, Isaac strips down to nothing but a langot, which triggers him to start scavenging in to the audience’s space in search of clothing to ensemble a classic suit to wear. When Isaac finds the elements of clothing he instantly puts them on, a sign of relief and contentment is expressed on his face once fully dressed in to his new outfit. He then breaks the fourth wall by introducing himself where we see he is no longer the born and bred African witnessed in the beginning but a Black British, presenting himself as a spokesman.

It is from that point the play becomes a promenade performance; Isaac becomes a tour guide and invites the audience members into another space in the venue to experience his exhibition. During the exhibition experience, the audience are involved as Isaac interestingly stays in character but interacts with different members to read out transcripts, google search statistics, analyse the photography on the walls of him; which came to life when you got a deeper meaning in to what the imagery displayed. We are then brought in to a different part in the space which contained chairs and beans bags for a cinema experience; playing an audio visual spoken word clip of Isaac, repetitively using metaphorical references to an oreo to express his feelings which got faster as the clip went on. The phrase that stood out in particular was when he says ‘Unleash me, Dip me in your milk, dunken my complexity, white wash my existence’.

As we went around the space, Isaac did a fantastic job dissecting the origin of where the name calling of Oreo stemmed from. The space became an open conversation to those guilty of identifying others as an Oreo or a victim of being called one.

The Oreo Complex is all about unravelling the Oreo label, depicting the negative connotations derived and afflicted, with the effects it can have on the conscious being identified as one; especially when you have come from another culture and have to adapt in a new country, whilst also not detaching from your roots.

The narrative within this play is convincing as Isaac uses his body and poetical skill to reflect the psychological effect society can have on the brain, by derogatory name calling. The Oreo Complex is truly a captivating, unique production; conveying emotion through dance, poetry and film to simulate your thinking.

Tanica Psalmist