Category Archives: Theatre

Review: This Is Elvis, New Theatre by Barbara Hughes Moore

It may have been a rainy Monday night in 2018 Cardiff, but for everyone watching This Is Elvis at the New Theatre, it felt as though we had been transported back in time to watch the King shake, rattle and roll in the flesh. This new musical, presented by Bill Kenwright and Laurie Mansfield, adapts, and celebrates, Elvis’ 1968 comeback special and his 1970 Las Vegas show, and five decades later the songs remain indestructible, incredible, and utterly unforgettable.

The first thing we’re greeted with is a striking red screen onto which is emblazoned an image of the King himself; his features are only hinted at, half his face obscured in shadow, but he’s still strikingly recognisable. It’s so bold that when you close your eyes the face remains like a camera flash after-image, like a Rorschach test, like the holy face imprinted on Veronica’s veil. Instantly, the image and its lasting effect on the eyes wordlessly articulates Elvis’ legendary status; that we only get impressions of the man he was, shaped by our own perception, experience and memory.

Having been bombarded with that stunning visual, when the curtain lifts it’s not Elvis we see, but rather other people – his manager, his band mates – talking about him. The spectral presence of Elvis’ image lingers, so that when he does finally arrive on stage he hauls along with him the baggage of everyone’s individual and collective ideas of who Elvis was. But from the moment Steve Michaels swaggered onto the stage in that legendary black leather ensemble, he was Elvis Presley.

We’ve all of us probably risked a ‘thank you very much’ Elvis impression at some point in our lives. But Steve Michaels’ performance was not an evocation, or even an impersonation – it was a complete inhabiting of character from the first moment to the last. His every vocal intonation, every gesture, every step and every sound was Elvis – even his hair, from root to tip, was every bit the King’s! Each and every song was varied and vibrant, capturing the essence of Elvis like lightning in a bottle. It was so spot on it veered into the uncanny valley at times, as if this was some living hologram of the man himself, here to bring a little joy into the lives of us Cardiffians on that rainy night. From his first line – ‘if you’re looking for trouble, you came to the right place’ – to his last – ‘Goodnight everyone, I’ve been Tom Jones’ – Steve Michaels lived every second on stage like a man possessed, and when they announced at the end that Elvis had left the building, it felt as if we truly had lost the King all over again.

The first act portrays Elvis’ ’68 NBC comeback special, the emotional and professional aftermath of Elvis’ revived spirits and career, and his first (reluctant) foray into performing a Vegas show. Most tantalising of all, it humanises the King in a way I’d never seen before – who’d ever have though such an extraordinary man as Elvis Presley would feel anything as ordinary as nerves? Fear? Insecurity? Yet we get to see the legend shaking with anxiety at the thought of getting back on the stage after twelve years away from it. At the start, he seems as monumental as that striking image of him emblazoned on the red screen; but by the end of act 1, we realise that this was but one side of the man, magnified, writ large on history. Despite all the accoutrements of his iconic character, beneath it all he’s just a man; a gifted one, but one plagued with the same emotional turmoil that we mere mortals know only too well.

Though earnest and interesting, the first act felt a tad messy in parts, interspersing Elvis’ onstage performances with his offstage personal drama in a way which felt clumsy at times. But act 1 was rendered both necessary and fulfilling by the absolute beast of its second act, which solely, singularly recreates Elvis’ 1970 Vegas show (feat. the iconic white jumpsuit) from start to finish with nothing else in between. It roars along as both a riotous, self-contained concert experience, and as a personal and professional victory, a success of epic proportions that completes Elvis’ road to reviving his confidence and career.

The audience was responsive, raucous and often rowdy, dancing and singing and affectionately shouting out their love and appreciation for the tireless efforts of the performers. And who could blame us, with such iconic, incredible songs to soak up like ‘That’s All Right Mama’, ‘Viva Las Vegas’, ‘Suspicious Minds’ and ‘It’s Now or Never’ – to name but a very few. One of the highlights of act 1 wasn’t even an Elvis track but a stunning rendition of Simon and Garfunkel’s ‘Bridge Over Troubled Water’. ‘Love Me Tender’ was the only song which I felt fell a little flat, but it was sandwiched by such corkers as ‘All Shook Up’ and ‘Don’t Be Cruel’. As an avid, enthusiastic (if amateur) dancer myself, I was particularly enraptured by the more upbeat songs of the night, jiving away to the riotous tones of ‘Blue Suede Shoes’, ‘Hound Dog’ and ‘King Creole’. But even when they slowed it down for ballads like ‘In The Ghetto’,  ‘Always On My Mind’ and ‘Are You Lonesome Tonight’, everyone in that theatre was utterly transfixed. ‘Burning Love’ seemed to be a more fitting final song than ‘Jailhouse Rock’, and the crowd reacted to it as such; the latter is a classic, don’t get me wrong, it just felt unsuitable for the finale. Having said that, using it as the climactic piece makes for a moment of pure circularity where the Elvis at the end of his life calls back to the Elvis who was just starting out. Narratively, it makes sense; musically, less so.

I was amazed – and vicariously exhausted – to watch every performer maintain such high levels of energy and quality throughout what looked to be an exhilarating but exhausting set. You can’t beat live music, but I have to commend these performers in particular for being amongst the best I’ve had the privilege of seeing live. I want to shout out especially to Misha Malcolm, Melissa Brown-Taylor, Katrina May and Chevone Stewart who added stunningly beautiful harmonies throughout the show, and enhanced every song by adding a simultaneously contemporary and ethereal quality. Everyone was incredible, from the guitars to the drums, the brass section to the singers, but I have to shout out to two standouts in particular: Niall Kerrigan on the lead guitar, of whom Chuck Berry would have been proud; and Steve Geere, who performed the dual roles of conductor (not an unclear upbeat in sight) and keyboardist – he was shredding them keys something fierce.

Transcendent, resplendent, incandescent. Whether you love Elvis or have never heard of him, this show is a must-see.

Get the Chance in the running to be named Wales’ most deaf friendly organisation.

 

Get the Chance in the running to be named Wales’ most deaf friendly organisation.

Get the Chance is in the running to be named as one of Wales’ best organisations for being accessible to deaf people.

The shortlist has been announced for the Excellence Wales Awards 2018 – the annual awards run by Action on Hearing Loss Cymru.

The charity’s awards recognise businesses that take steps to make their services accessible to the 575,500 people in Wales who are deaf or have hearing loss.

All organisations either nominated themselves or were put forward by a person who is deaf and has received a good service in the past year.

The shortlist is now in the running to be awarded one of four titles;

  • Service Excellence
  • Excellence in Health
  • Excellence in Arts and Entertainment
  • Excellent Employer

The awards will be decided by an independent panel, made up of people who are deaf or have hearing loss. A People’s Choice Award will be chosen by the public, to vote for Get the Chance in this category please click on the link  here.

Rebecca Woolley, Director of Action on Hearing Loss Cymru said,

“The judging panel now have a difficult job to decide the winners from an impressive shortlist. All the shortlisted organisations prove that simple changes can really improve the lives of people with hearing loss. I hope that organisations across Wales are inspired by this shortlist and start thinking about the simple changes they can make to ensure their services are accessible to the one-in-six people who are deaf or have hearing loss.”

Guy O’Donnell, Director, Get the Chance said,

“Our volunteers produce unique content which supports Deaf audiences and artists to ensure a range of opinions are seen and read relating to sport and cultural provision. We are honoured and humbled to be shortlisted as part of this years awards.”

The awards will be held at Cardiff’s St David’s Hotel on 4 May 2018, presented by ITV Wales News reporter Megan Boot.

Review: Matthew Bourne’s Cinderella by Sian Thomas

 

 out of 5 stars (5 / 5)

Last March I was lucky enough to have a relative key me into ballet. I saw Matthew Bourne’s “The Red Shoes”, and when I was invited to see his take on Cinderella, I already knew I was bound to have a wonderful time – and I did. Though The Red Shoes will always harbour a soft spot in my heart because it was my first ballet, I think it’s safe to say I liked this one much more. First of all, as a novice, I think it’s pretty important that this time, I knew what was going on. The story of Cinderella does not escape me even as it harbours a few changes (like being set in London 1940 and having a war theme, and Cinderella’s family being bigger than I remembered).

Costumes were incredible, and I think by “costumes” I mean “Cinderella’s dress”, because if we’re being honest, I was excited to see what it would look like as an audience member, rather than in pictures and pamphlet photos. And it was stunning; truly. Even her costume before the dance was lovely. I’m always a fan of flowing skirts and dresses, so seeing the way they moved as people danced was such a treat to my eyes. So, in that vein, the dancing was incredible. Still, a year later I don’t know much (or anything) about ballet or dancing in general and my eyes continue to be unaware of mistakes and unable to form any critiques (not that I have any at all, actually).

When I left The Red Shoes, I remember I came out on a high, as if I could suddenly redirect my life even though it was 10pm and I would be going home to bed afterwards. The same high followed me out of the theatre after Cinderella. An odd kind of high, one that left me sitting quietly and thinking and reflecting and just trying to figure out what words I would use to really show how much I loved this performance. I couldn’t find many. It’s definitely a “you have to see it to understand” kind of thing (which is why I’m going a step further to place some links here: in case anyone becomes interested in going).

Five stars because it really was wonderful and I’d love to see it again and I know I would enjoy it just as thoroughly every single time.

Review Lightspeed from Pembroke Dock, Dirty Protest

Dirty Protest present a playful, dynamic and heartening journey from Pembroke Dock to Cardiff; from 1979 to 2014.

However, dirty their protest Lightspeed from Pembroke Dock is clear-cut and fast-paced.

All photographic credits Jorge Lizalde @studioCano1

Having the privilege of sitting in on rehearsals it became incredibly evident that the care and respect the cast held for one another – when moving set in rehearsals, common phrases overheard included ‘Lift with your knees!’ and ‘Watch you back!’ I assume that this kindness was integral as their process was so collaborative. The cast devised through play; following rules, such as they can only use a prop once and it cannot be used in the play as what it is in reality.

The theme of the intergenerational in the presentation of father/child relationships is key within Lightspeed. With Star Wars at the heart of the narrative and in the heart of Sam. The development of Sam’s passion, from 1979 in his childhood and his late night expedition to see the Millenium Falcon, to 2014 and his daughter, Lizzie’s wreckless expedition to the new Star Wars production company. Youthfulness play, drive and fearlessness is championed in this script partnered with a great empathy and love for fathers and their sacrificial nature.

Lightspeed From Pembroke Dock is not pro-creative industry/jobs, however, it is encouraging of the industry in Wales and its progression, as well as the self-fulfilment it offers its workers. A privilege of the arts that was certainly evident in the rehearsal room for Lightspeed as the group warm up with a exuberant and merciless round of an Eastenders themed game. Who doesn’t wish they could start their day at work screaming ‘Get out of my pub!’

Lightspeed From Pembroke Dock is an uplifting, loving and dynamic presentation of family, passion and creativity, and the creativity of the piece is infectious! I was so privileged to be able to watch such an incredibly talented, committed and caring creative team. Dirty Protest is a theatre company that everyone should be aware of!

Tour Dates:

Wed 4- Sat 7 April

Chapter, Cardiff

Tue 17 April

Soar Centre, Valleys Kids

Wed 18 April

Ffwrnes, Llanelli

Thu 19 April

Taliesin Arts Centre

Fri 21 April

Riverfront, Newport

Mon 23 April

Halliwell Theatre, Carmarthen

Tues 24 April

Pontardawe Arts Centre

Wed 25 April

Borough Theatre, Abergavenny

Thurs 26 April

Blackwood Miners Institute

Fri 27 April

Galeri, Caernarfon

Sat 28 May

Aberystwyth Arts Centre

Wed 2 May

Theatr Brycheiniog, Brecon

Fri 4 – Sat 5 May

Torch Theatre, Milford Haven

A Declaration “What is Diversity in Theatre?” by Hannah Lad

Fio Theatre company at the frontline, in the fight for diversity and equality in the Welsh arts industry, opened its doors to fifteen performers, playwrights and directors in February for a week of masterclasses delivered by some excellent industry professionals followed by a creation week, a Declaration to the arts in Wales.

The first workshop was led by Abdul Shayek and Shane Nickels giving us a warm welcome into the Fio family. Before this masterclass we were set tasks based on our chosen practice, we explored different text and styles. Creating conversations between the groups about what is theatre and who should it effect. The biggest question being “What is Diversity in Theatre?”

As the week progressed masterclasses were delivered by Eric Ngalle Charles, Lisa Zahra, Cathy Tyson and Ryan Romain. All these masterclasses were invaluable to me, each one gave me something that would improve my learning as a performer. For me as an actor, I personally really enjoyed Lisa’s workshop, helping me tackle Shakespeare, unlocking my emotions simply and giving me exercises to have under my belt to help me at auditions.

After this week of masterclasses it was time to get into groups and create! I was lucky enough to have a splendid group made up of, Connor Allan as our incredible writer, Othniel Smith as our Director. I was lucky enough to perform alongside Kama Roberts and Aly Cruickshank. Connor’s play was a pleasure to explore during this week, an honest and resonating piece of writing written incredibly well for the performers in the piece. Our group spent a week exploring this text to create a final piece. The extract was called ‘3 Lost Souls. ‘ The final sharing of this work was incredibly successful for our group.

The aim of Declaration was to give diverse professionals a platform to create, I cannot stress how important that is! As a working class performer just breaking into the industry projects like this are a lifesaver.

Our theatre industry in Wales is very hard to access for someone who doesn’t fit certain criteria. Actors not getting paid, writers not having a platform to share their work, and audiences being of consistently one class. I believe it is time to change so, I think that everyone should ask them self “What is Diversity in Theatre?” It needs thought!

Hannah Lad

Review Love Me Now, Michelle Barnette, Tristan Bates Theatre by Hannah Goslin

 out of 5 stars (4 / 5)

 

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

 

Audio and text review of All But Gone at The Other Room, Cardiff by Roger Barrington

 out of 5 stars (4 / 5)

 

Callum Hymers as Kai and Owen Bowen Harries as Owen

 

 

 

Nicola Reynolds as Olwen asserting her authority over Owen (Wyn Bowen Harries) with Bev (Erin Phillips) and Kai (Callum Hymers) looking on

 

 

 

 

Owen (Wyn Bowen Harries) and Howell (Daniel Graham) sharing an intimate moment

 

 

Photographs by Keiran Cudlip

 

 

 

REVIEW

 

TRANSCRIPT

All But Gone is the second production of the Lovesick season at The Other Room in Cardiff. It marks the debut direction of the Other Room’s new artistic director Dan Jones, and if this astonishing show is anything to go by, it will make this venue, not only one of the most exciting in Cardiff but in Wales as a whole.

For a fringe venue to put on a new play by established playwright Matthew Trevannion of this quality is an outstanding achievement.

The action begins with Kai, (played by newcomer Callum Hymers with great emotional control for a young actor), burgling pensioner Owen’s house. Owen who had previously noticed Kai acting suspiciously at a neighbour’s premises is waiting for him – shotgun pointed at the intruder. After putting the Fear of God into him, Owen slowly reveals a sympathetic side, and realising that Kai is famished, offers a sandich and sends him on his way. But not before Howell, (Daniel Graham who brilliantly plays the character alternating between gentleness, manic antics and uncontrolled rage) enters the scene from upstairs and recites a soulful passage of poetry. However, he appears not to notice kai before returning to where he came from.

In fact, only Owen interacts with Kai throughout the entire play, even though he is often present in scenes with the other characters.

This puzzling question is the beginning of what becomes a highly complex play. If Kai isn’t actually a person then hat is her and what does he represent?

Does the illegal entry through the kitchen window, mirrored in the final scene by Howell represent an intrusion into Owen’s impaired memory . As the play develops, it becomes obvious that the action takes place with Owen as a younger man and where he is now.  But how reliable is his memory for he seems to be undertaking a decline of his mental facilities and entering a state of senile dementia?

The other characters are also marvelously observed. Nicola Reynolds plays Olwyn, matriarchal head of the family where Owen is living. She plays the archetypal Welsh Mam to a tee and has the funniest lines. There is a lot of humour in this play despite its poignant subject matter.

Her daughter Bev,  (Erin Phillips) is a kindhearted Welsh girl of the kind we all know and love. Her brother is Howell who has already been introduced.

Everyone in this production seems tailor-made for the characters they portray which is a testament to their acting abilities. A special mention has to go to Wyn Bowen Harries,  a veteran actor on the Welsh TV and theatre scene. His control, especially vocally is superb and you can’t help looking at his character sympathetically.

The play touches upon a number of themes as well as dementia – confused sexuality and lost opportunity.

The set design is perfect for a small space. A table and kitchen unit wwith window back centre and stairs leading upwards. A porch and outer door lead to the street. Carl Davies miraculously  manages to make the set appear much larger than it actually is.

Joe Fletcher’s lighting provides scenes of great intimacy.

In fact, this is a flawless production, and if I could, I would be awarding it four and a half stars out of five.

This is a truly thought provoking play about a thought disintegrating subject matter. This production deserves a transfer to a larger venue after it ends its run here.

Due to the strong language throughout, and adult scenes and subject matter, this play is for mature audiences only. It runs at The Other Room in Cardiff until 14th April and I would urge you to view it.

Please follow the link below to check ticket availability.

 

Continue reading Audio and text review of All But Gone at The Other Room, Cardiff by Roger Barrington

Review The Motherf**ker with the Hat, Sherman Theatre by Barbara Hughes-Moore

 

 out of 5 stars (5 / 5)

 

Having been a fan of Stephen Adly Guirgis’ The Last Days of Judas Iscariot (hereafter Last Days), I was eager to check out his similarly incendiary-of-title follow-up ‘The Motherf**ker with the Hat’ (hereafter That Mo-Fo Show). Directed by Andy Arnold, this collaboration between Sherman Theatre and Tron Theatre, Glasgow is ninety minutes of electric drama, with no interval to slow down the break-neck pace of this magnificent masterpiece unfolding on the stage.

Set in the grimy grit of Hell’s Kitchen NYC, The Mo-Fo Show follows a young man named Jackie, a newly-released ex-con recently home from prison, as he tries to stay clean and out of trouble despite personal revelations that threaten to turn his world upside down. Francois Pandolfo plays Jackie with such roguish, ramshackle appeal that you understand why Veronica, Ralph and Julio still care about him despite his transgressions. He’s a lovable loser; a user in all senses of the word. As Satan tells the lawyer El-Fayoumy in Last Days, ‘you’ll never be loved, because you’re incapable of it’, which sums up one of Jackie’s myriad issues to a tee. Unendingly selfish and mercurial, Jackie cares little about the thoughts and feelings of others as long as they serve his purpose. But by the final curtain, there’s hope – if ambiguously framed – that Jackie may finally have a toe on the path to recovery; though he leaves threats in his wake, a revenant of his presence that lingers uneasily after the curtain falls.

Despite this being ostensibly Jackie’s story, we start and end the play with Veronica, masterfully played by Alexandria Riley, who is fast proving herself as one of the most dynamic actors currently treading the boards. To me, Veronica is the most tragic character of them all, because she learns nothing, and is doomed to re-enter the vicious cycle in which she has imprisoned herself. When the play starts, Veronica is chastising her mother on the phone for dating a deadbeat and taking drugs; and yet she casually snorts coke during the conversation, and then praises her own deadbeat boyfriend for finally getting a job. Veronica is her mother’s double, repeating the same harmful mistakes of the past again and again. We leave her at the end alone in the dark, with little hope for the future.

Veronica projects an image of brutal honesty, but it conceals secrets and lies – though she is far from being the only hypocrite in the play. Jackie protests that he is a good man, but it masks the fact that he is not. Ralph presents an image of being the ideal man, but in reality he is far from perfection. Played with mesmerising charm by Jermaine Dominique, Ralph’s shocking switch from wise everyman to shrewd manipulator is subtly portrayed and all the more sinister for it. Having said that, none of the characters are moustache-twirling villains, although they say and do bad things, making each character’s own personal Dark Passenger frighteningly realistic.

Each character leaves the play with their own long list of regrets – for the life they could have led, for the people they could have been, for the choices they’d have made differently if they had the chance. Regret makes a double of you, leaving an imprint of who you might have been if not for one choice, one moment, one mistake. The character of Victoria – wonderfully, woundedly portrayed by Renee Williams – exemplifies this duality most keenly of all. Her choice to follow love over career has left her hollow and achingly lonely, so much so that she wants to ‘disappear’, if only for a while. She is the least hypocritical character, except perhaps for Jackie’s Cousin Julio.

Julio may just be the most well-adjusted character of the bunch, a guy who both enthusiastically enjoys the minutiae of cooking and also occasionally puts people in the hospital. He even names his violent alter ego, referring to it as Jean-Claude Van Damme. Though perhaps the most dichotomous character of the cast, Julio is engaging precisely because he accepts that he is a bad man – a clear foil for Jackie, who proclaims to be a good man but is, in truth, the oppsite. Kyle Lima frequently treads a fine line between pastiche and plausibility in the role, but wonderfully crafts a performance which feels both fantastical and naturalistic, and the kind of person you would legitimately enjoy hanging out with in real life. Julio is a potent mixture of Pulp Fiction’s Jules Winnfield, The Birdcage’s Agador Spartacus, and Yoda from Star Wars; and if that sentence alone doesn’t convince you to see the play for yourself, I don’t know what will.

In addition to being a rapt audience member, I also had the pleasure of being a speaker on the post-show panel, led by Tim Howe, the Sherman’s Communities and Engagement Coordinator, and my fellow panellists Luke Hereford (the play’s assistant director), and Nick Shepley (addictions therapist at The Living Room). The discussion was lively and engaging as always, with some great insights from the panel and the audience alike.

Every character in the play was, or had been, an addict – to drugs, alcohol, sex, sometimes a combination of those things. But they’re also (quoting Last Days) ‘addicted to tragedy and punishment’, doomed to wallow in a hell of their own making; a vicious circle of self-imprisonment. Secrets and lies have stretched taut to breaking point between the characters; revelations take time to crack open, but once the lid is lifted on that particular Pandora’s Box, a whole swathe of sorrows and deceits come pouring out, with little sign of stopping. Some of the revelations were so shocking that I gasped audibly when reading them for the first time, and still felt the aftershocks of that surprise whilst watching the play live. Each character fails to stave off the throes of their own addiction – often, as Nick observed, just swapping one addiction for another.

The play is so rich and rewarding that there were so many observations, thoughts and ideas that there simply wasn’t time to discuss on the panel. On reading the play for the first time, the appearance of the hat, sans owner, seemed almost to be mystical, even mythic, in nature. It appears without warning, like an omen, and is the MacGuffin which ignites the dramatic spark which burns throughout the rest of the play. And when Jackie goes downstairs to confront who he thinks is its owner, it seemed almost as if he was descending into the pits of hell for an audience with the devil. Much like Godot, the eponymous hatted individual is absent from the proceedings, and yet his spectral presence haunts every scene. Or, rather, the mo-fo with the hat does appear, though not in the guise Jackie first expected. Whether its magical or mundane, the hat acts as a manifestation of mistrust and misdemeanours – Jackie initially likens it to the mark of Zorro, sign of the titular mo-fo marking his territory. He closes the play, and the narrative loop, by leaving his own mark behind – a Commodores CD, a relic of his long-held love for Veronica, now a monument of a bygone era.

This is not a courtroom drama, despite a number of legal elements splintered through the story. I lost count of how many times assault and battery occurred, both with and without a deadly weapon, not to mention the copious references to drug use, convicted and otherwise. Jackie has a very particularly twisted moral code – when he first suspects Veronica of having an affair, with scant evidence to go on, he argues that murder would be ‘f**ked up but understandable’ in the circumstances. Jackie is every person’s judge but his own. The play reinforces Guirgis’ own words from Last Days, in which the lawyer Fabiana Aziza Cunningham proclaims that ‘those who need forgiveness are the ones who don’t deserve it’. But, as Last Days attests to, ‘you have to participate in your own salvation’. Jackie ends up serving time, not for his various assaults, batteries and criminal threats, but for breaking parole. The law is a distant, vaguely drawn entity in the play; but it is an interesting consideration of how a person’s internal self differs from their external persona, and how, as Jackie observes, ‘people can be more than one thing’.

Vibrant, vulgar and viciously insightful, The Motherf**ker with the Hat is an unrelenting, rewarding play that lingers in the mind long after the final curtain. Incendiary, inventive and intoxicating, the play showcases the second-to-none cast and brings the wildly exhilarating worlds of Stephen Adly Guirgis to sharp, relatable relief. Utterly unmissable. And following on from that, I would also highly recommend Guirgis’ The Last Days of Judas Iscariot, as a companion piece to this play, as its predecessor, or as a stand-alone study of the prisons we make for ourselves.

Barbara Hughes-Moore

Review Inheriting Gods, Chapter Arts Centre by Roger Barrington

Image credit Kirsten McTernan

 out of 5 stars (4 / 5)

 

“When each of you in this room were born, there were 6,000 languages spoken on the planet. Now, a language is not just a body of vocabulary or a set of grammatical rules. A language is a flash of the human spirit. It’s a vehicle through which the soul of each particular culture comes into the material world. Every language is an old-growth forest of the mind, a watershed, a thought, an ecosystem of spiritual possibilities”.

So says my friend Wade Davis in a TED speech in Monterey  in 2003.

This premise is largely what drives the excellent Theatr Gwalia’s “Inheriting Gods” that has now finished its short run at Chapter in Cardiff.

Writer C.M. Stephens links the Wampanoag language to the Welsh by interacting a Valleys tourist Rhiannon, and an indigenous descendant, English name Shaw, within a Cape Cod setting. Once they sort out their national identity, they find that they have an awful lot in common. In finding out about each other’s language and culture, they reach a state of transcendence where they discover their own.

Playwright C. M. Stephens 

Both my paternal and maternal lines originate in Somerset. My Barrington line found themselves in Brecon in the 1870’s and remained for the next one hundred and twenty five years. Why Brecon? Well my great great grandmother, was a typical female Welsh export at this time, a servant in Weston Super Mare. She came from Llanspyddid outside Brecon and this obviously prompted their emigration. My mother’s family landed up in Cardiff in the 1890’s.

Inevitably, both families married Welsh folk so I have the usual Davies, Williams and Powell lines on my family tree. When examining the 1901 Census, my great grandfather, James Davies is recorded as a Welsh speaker., but like so many families, this was not passed down to his children. Brecon, being located close to the English border is not a particularly Welsh speaking town and despite learning the language in school for many years without distinction, I now know only a basic number of Welsh words, but am unable to string sentences together. This mirrors Rhiannon in the story.

Shaw a descendant of the indigenous people  has been Americanised. Cape Cod, where most of the action takes place has a large Wampanoag settlement at Mashpee. Other reservations are found on Martha’s Vineyard. In fact, each year, a powwow takes place, a weekend of dancing, drumming and musical performances celebrating the People of the First Light. This year, the three day festival starts on 6th July. I guess it is the Wampanoag equivalent of our Eisteddfod.

Charlie Jobe

 

 

Saran Morgan

 

 

 

 

The Wampanoag language is unusual in that it was, at one time extinct, but has been revived since the 1990’s.  Even more so than Welsh, it struggles to survive being immersed within the English speaking communities.  Also, like Welsh, it has its own varied culture and way of life.

The play touches upon many subjects besides language loss. The Wampanoag were the people who greeted the Pilgrim Fathers at Plymouth Rock on November 11th 1620. Ms Medway-Stephens makes the point that I used to debate with my Chinese students in their American Literature class when studying William Bradford’s controversial contemporary  account. The point being that each year American’s celebrate the fact that the good earth provides nourishment on Thanksgiving Day, whilst simultaneously and mostly unintentionally, wiping the faces of the indigenous people’s whose land they stole in the same soil.

Of course there is a common denominator in that both races were exploited by the dreaded English, another point the writer is anxious to make. To be fair to our neighbours over the other side of Offa’s Dyke, it as not only the English who colonised America, as the ill-fated Darien Scheme instigated by the King of Scotland clearly shows. I’m sure us Welsh did our bit – well Patagonia springs to mind.

The name Rhiannon, the Horse Goddess of that great work of Welsh literature, the Mabinogion is also brought into the narrative. There is also much attention paid to Shaw’s anglicised name.

Then there are the Welsh politicians who went on hunger strike to successfully plead the case of having a Welsh language television station.

The burning question to be addressed may be an uncomfortable one for us Anglo-Welsh. That is, how Welsh can you actually be without speaking the language of your nation; without reading its literary heritage in its mother-tongue; without singing the beautiful songs that have been passed down over the ages?

If there is a more important Welsh play in the English language written in this or any other year, I would very much like to see it.

My only criticism is that I feel it is under-developed as it stands. Lasting only sixty five minutes, the issues and others not mentioned here, don’t get sufficient time to be explored fully. I recall seeing Robert Lepage’s seminal play, “The Seven Streams of the River Ota” in both it’s workshop production and its triumphant seven and a half hour epic presentation at the National Theatre a couple of years later. I can see “Inheriting Gods” developing in a similar way. By having twenty to thirty minute vignettes exploring the issues referred to for both the Welsh and Wampanoag themes bound together by the central premise.

The two characters played by Saran Morgan and Charlie Jobe are both likeable. Scenes are divided by videos and photographs of both Cape Cod and Wales. Accompanied by an assortment of songs in both English and Welsh, I think this worked really well. The set seems to be some kind of stockade, although it may represent the reservation or even the traditional architecture of Wampanoag huts.

Saran Morgan and Charlie Jobe

 

 

 

The play has now ended its short run, but I hope to see it re-emerge, perhaps somewhere along the lines I have suggested here.

Finally, to slightly change one of the central anthropological questions, what it is to be human and alive. Carmen Medway-Stephens poses the question, what it is to be Welsh and alive.

More information about the Wampanoag People

culturalsurvival.org-Awakening a Sleeping Language on Cape Cod The Wampanoag Language Reclamation Project

tolatsga.org-

 

Roger Barrington