Tag Archives: Ailin Conant

“The Hungry Ghost” at the Bush Theatre

Mei Leng Yew’s new play covers a lot of ground with great success. As well as the promised scares, rooted in Chinese folklore, it is a romance, with a young couple moving in together at the very moment one of them becomes possessed. Best of all, alongside its intriguing premise, it is funny.

One twist is that actor Mei Mac takes on the roles of the ‘Girl’ and her lover, creating sweet, gentle moments. Mei also plays her mother, brother and, well, just about everyone in the show. Switching roles during conversations, never losing focus or sacrificing clarity, she gives an awe-inspiring performance, with so many accents I lost count.

Mac is joined by Isabella Wei as the Ghost. This is a different kind of supernatural creature – a spook it’s possible to like! The spectre has sensible ideas about British bread and working for a living. Driven only by desire – sex and food – Wei embodies these passions marvellously. The role develops from scary to sympathetic, creating a powerful dynamic and some surprises.

There’s plenty of drama as the Ghost becomes dangerous. Cheng Keng and Carla Ng’s lighting and sound design are particularly effective. Director Ailin Conant keeps the pace swift, but allows moments of reflection when romance comes to the fore, giving the audience time to increase their affection for the characters.

The Hungry Ghost comes into conflict with modern life, allowing Yew to make observations about the diaspora, parenting, mental health, youth and gay life. The satire around the girl’s partner being a therapist could be expanded. And if some issues are resolved too quickly, that only makes the show sweeter. Yew’s themes are handled lightly. Comedy is the key, producing a piece with a gentle touch that leaves the audience feeling full. Even the ghost ends up satisfied (kind of) and I, for one, am happy for her.

Until 31 October 2026

www.bushtheatre.com

Photos by Corrine Cumming

“Feed” at the Vault Festival

If you like things a bit mad, then Theatre Témoin’s show is for you. Occasionally entertaining, sometimes funny, deliberately provocative and childishly offensive, this is a chaotic affair. And that’s not necessarily a negative. Feed is a mess, but you can understand why. You see, it’s about the internet.

There are two central stories that show promise: a well-intentioned but nonetheless fake news report that goes viral and a teen vlogger driven to insanity by her virtue signalling. It’s tempting to speculate that the work of contributing playwrights Eve Leigh and Erin Judge can be spotted here. But neither tale is explored enough, which is frustrating. The ‘devising cast’ – Louise Lee, Esmee Marsh, Jonathan Peck and Yasmine Yagchi – have elaborated too much around the stories and director Ailin Conant seems to have done little to restrain them.

As the journalist Kate sees her work go viral because of a photo she stole from her girlfriend, and Mia’s blog moves from being about beauty to martyrdom, we are bombarded with the ridiculous. Then some geese turn up for a subplot about foie gras. Again, it could be argued that the chaos comes from a close study of the subject matter. The commitment and the energy are unflagging. Unfortunately, there are too many problems on top of too much content.

Ambition outstrips ability frequently. The imagery of cannibalism and coprophagy is vivid but poorly delivered. The set is clumsy. Interaction with the audience is poor. A central motif with performers ‘rewinding’, as if on video, and then repeating their actions with a tweaked word or gesture, seems nonsensical – why refer back to an old technology? And mock adverts inserted into scenes make for distracting and cheap comedy. A lot of this is easily solved, but there are bigger issues. A sinister SEO guru who bridges both stories is too comforting a fantasy; the idea of a controlling force behind internet success, someone that we can blame, is a fiction for conspiracy theorists. And the AI spoken of as having “no morals, no ethics, no monitoring” – yet another topic abandoned – is too much of a cop out.

For all its faults, Feed has a confrontationality that is bracing. It treads the line of accusing its audience with some self-deprecation. Ultimately, of course, it’s all of us who sustain the web. Asking us to look away or share some popcorn with them as events climax shows a sense of the theatrical as well as human insight. And there are intentionally uncomfortable moments when it’s clear nobody is afraid of challenging anyone – and that, at least, is a welcome addition to the theatrical menu.

Until 10 March 2019

www.vaultfestival.com