(3 / 5)

Gary Owen, known for his phenomenal play, Iphigenia in Splott, returns to Lyric Hammersmith with his adaptation of Henrik Ibsen’s, Ghosts. Featuring welsh actor Callum Scott Howells who has graced our TV screens in It’s a Sin and the stage with Cabaret and supported by a host of other famous faces, this classic tale is brought into the modern world.

Ghosts tells the story of the class system, long-term abuse and the intertwining relationships between. When Helena wants to use the money from her abusive late husband to create a children’s hospital, it begins to unravel as the truth comes out about him. She is catapulted backwards to her memories of trauma and, with her son Oz home, soon the unspoken secrets are revealed, creating problems that cannot be solved.

The entire performance takes place in one room – it looks like a plush building, with a glass window, that only ever looks out at the clouds and mist. The walls are plastered in the back view of a man’s head – a man we never meet. There’s a sense of someone always present, and when we hear the tales of abuse by her late husband, there’s this sense of him always watching. The cloud-covered building is hidden away from normality of the village, and this is only ever broached by the outsiders who are invited in. There’s a reference to class not only in this but outwardly acknowledged, and the concept of privileged in abuse underpins a lot of the story.

What is interesting is that the story delves into the juxtaposition of being a victim and this experience of turning them into an abuser. Helena (played by Victoria Smurfit, seen recently in the acclaimed Rivals) uses her position to push down the trauma, but as it unravels and her along with it, she uses her taught behaviour to impact others, using her privilege to forward abuse. It’s a really interesting take on domestic abuse and creates a feeling of unease, when, a not entirely likeable character creates an atmosphere where you feel sympathy, but breaks and returns to the unlikable person.

Scott Howells plays a lovable fool, brought up rich and sent away, he is a budding actor and holds the majority of the comical lines. He’s awkward but also bubble wrapped and this comes across in his interactions with others. His relationship with Reggie (played by Patricia Allison) becomes the one relationship that he isn’t pretentious in and the child-like innocence between them is natural and fun. It lulls us only into what comes next and they both create that easy environment, so when the mic-drop moments of the play happen, it makes you audibly gasp and feel very uncomfortable – exactly the purpose.

The only parts that felt a little out of place were some of theatrical approaches – for a large part, the play has a naturalistic feel – the performers conduct their interactions, there are monologues, and there is nothing wrong with this. On its own, the shocking moments would be as shocking. But later, there’s a change to choral/foreboding church music; some electronical music that crescendos; freeze frames and silhouetting, which are all fine as theatrical choices, but adds very little to the production. If this was throughout in little pockets, it may have added more to the performance. It unfortunately felt a little shoe-horned it and without purpose.

Overall, Ghosts is an enjoyable production. Full of twists and turns and shocking moments, it also has moments of comedy and lovable characters, doing well to create a comfortable space to plunge the theatrical blows.

When I was a kid (which was a very long time ago), ask any schoolboy what he wanted to be when he grew up and he would reply, ‘a footballer’. What any schoolgirl at that time might have answered I never discovered, as such social mixing was kept very much to a minimum. A pop star, perhaps?

For the two protagonists in this electrifying play, teenagers Kyla and Ruby, the answer is ‘to go viral’ and enjoy ‘pool parties in Las Vegas’. A pipe dream this may be, but it’s all these girls have to cling to, what with them coming from broken families and having no other discernible prospects.

HOT CHICKS is the latest production by Swansea’s Grand Ambition, in collaboration with Cardiff’s Sherman Theatre, and concerns people whose lives usually play out beneath the eyeline of the average, law-abiding, taxpayer. If such a thing still exists.

Kyla and Ruby are teenage friends who spend most of their spare time hanging around in a fried chicken shop in a deprived area of Swansea, antagonising the irascible but sympathetic owner, Cheney. One day, in walks Sadie, a woman who seems to have everything they crave: money, designer clothing and a winning attitude. Almost immediately, the young and impressionable girls are caught in her orbit, hanging onto her every word and keen to pick up the crumbs she casts their way. But there’s a darker side to Sadie and her intentions towards her new admirers are far from benign. And soon, Kyla and Ruby are neck-deep in the older woman’s world, which is a dark and dangerous place indeed, with little hope of escape.

HOT CHICKS deals with uncomfortable subjects, subjects we’d rather look away from, but thanks to the unique staging we – the audience – can’t. We’re forced to take this journey with the teenage protagonists, along the way sharing every high and feeling every bruise. All this is conveyed via the astonishing performances by the two leads, Izzi McCormack John as Kyla and Londiwe Mthembu as Ruby, who dazzle with those co-existing teenage traits of obnoxiousness and vulnerability. Rachel Redford swings effortlessly from cool swagger to icy malevolence as Sadie, and Richard Elis exudes a natural warmth as the owner of the fried chicken shop where the drama takes place. In the great swirl of all this upheaval and tragedy, he is a voice of reason.

Written by Rebecca Jade Hammond and directed by Hannah Noone, HOT CHICKS is a hugely engaging play; funny, witty, touching and horrifying in equal measure. It opens your eyes, raises your consciousness and plunges you headlong into the lives of people you might not so much have glanced at in the street. It’s become something of cliché to say that this is a play people should be made to see, but it certainly applies here. It’s an elevating experience.

HOT CHICKS is on at the Grand Theatre, Swansea, until April 25.

(4 / 5)

No story about the Holocaust is ever the same. We think we know the basics, we know what happened and continue to be appalled. But story after story comes to us, with each being ever so different to the last, each so horrific and heroic and unfathomable.

The Happiest Man on Earth, based on the best selling memoir by Eddie Jaku, a holocaust survivor, is brought to the stage in this fantastic one man show. From childhood to adulthood, we are taken through Jaku’s life from the happiest to the most horrific.

Kenneth Tigar who plays Jaku, firstly comes in and interacts with us, ad-libbing on the spot and not only making us comfortable but also chuckle. He is friendly and lovely and this sets us up, within a cocoon of security, for him to deliver the spine tingling tale. Tigar somehow delivers the entire, highly theatrical production with a way that feels like he is speaking to each of us individually. He makes eye contact, letting us see the range of emotions, deep from his soul. It’s so easy to forget, this isn’t his story. He delivers it so vulnerably, so intimately and so candidly.

While Tigar is the only performer, sometimes switching from himself to other characters with subtle voice and physical changes, the set and the making of different locations and atmosphere is represented through minimal staging and a range of soundscapes and lighting. It does the right amount of adding to Tigar’s performance but also elevating it theatrically. It gives you shivers and envelopes you within these different spaces and transports you to the range of humble places to the depths of hell.

The Happiest Man on Earth is a fantastic production, delivering a high theatrical performance without taking away the main essence and reality of Eddie Jaku’s life. This is not only down the the fantastic and subtle staging but also to the personable performance by Kenneth Tigar.

(3 / 5)

I must say, it is a daily thought and worry of mine about the (hopefully, very far in the future) moment of losing my parents *touches wood*. I’m not sure my reaction, how I will cope, and whether there will be moments of insanity or even comedy. Yes, We’re Related has already helped my knowledge that this could be possible.

Yes, We’re Related, is the story of two very different sisters, dealing with the passing of their mother, a party to celebrate 1 year on, the memories and angst and… a squirrel. Yes that’s right, a squirrel. Gerald is believed to be their mother reincarnated but what ensues is a stark look at the sister’s relationship, with one another, their mother and one of their partners and how to cope within loss.

A mixture of themes, this production certainly has moments of highs and lows. I wouldn’t say that it touches deeply in terms of sentiment or bringing a tear to your eye, but it brings out sympathies and certainly makes you think about your own relationships with family and friends. The highs are very high, with quick witted humour and a contrasting characterisation between sisters; one is prim and proper, organised and seemingly with her life together, the other, short of a breakdown within grief, is buoyant and erratic and extroverted. The two bounce off each other, with little break for pause, and this works really well. It feels truly natural as a sisterhood and as if we are peaking through that fourth wall.

The partner who is the third wheel of this relationship, is more like his partner’s sister than her; wild and melodramatic but also love-able. However, we know him as Mark, and twice does he accidentally get referred to as Mike. We can only assume this is an ex that the sister is fixated on, but we never reach that revelation and so it doesn’t quite add to the story as it maybe was meant to.

The squirrel, Gerald, is never seen. I’ll admit, I thought would there be some hand puppet or wildly, someone dressed as a squirrel. But no, he is presented in sound and light only, using our figment of imagination when he escapes and this works really well. He is meant to be the mother in animal form and the symbiotic relationship between him and the sister living there is concerning but also heartwarming. Her way of coping. A story, heard many a time in different guises. So when he leaves the story, and she succumbs to her grief, it is heartwarming and tearing all at the same time.

Yes, We’re Related is a roller coaster of comedy, meaningful conversation and a warm hug in what we will all experience, in one way or another. The performances and relationships are impeccable and it tells an age old story in a unique and new way.