Tag Archives: David Furlong

Uncategorised

“Who is Claude Cahun?” at the Southwark Playhouse

The titular artist who is the subject of DR Hill’s play has only received attention relatively recently. Speculation about Claude Cahun’s sexuality and gender has appeal for academics, while her life makes for an interesting story. From Paris in the 1930s to resistance work in occupied Jersey during World War II, this is a story worth telling. It is a great shame that here, despite a lot of effort, that it is not told well.

Rivkah Bunker, who takes the title role, and Amelia Armande, who plays Cahun’s partner Marcel Moore, are hampered by a script that is both worthy and wooden. Maybe Hill has read the anti-war messages his subjects wrote as a form of protest too often – there were posters and banners, as well as writing secreted in magazines and even on cigarette papers. But surely, Cahun and Moore didn’t speak like that in real life. The problem is compounded by an eye on theory – the word ‘identity’ is used far too often – which takes us out of the world of the play. Nearly all the dialogue is poor. Lines such as “open up, it’s the Gestapo” are close to embarrassing. 

There is no shortage of ideas in the piece. Juliette Demoulin’s set is effective and the video design by Jeffrey Choy uses Cahun’s artwork well. Director David Furlong highlights movement a lot and manages to create some intriguing moments, inspired by Cahun’s performance work, expressing intimacy and emotion. But there is a reliance on presenting Cahun as a troubled genius. Too much background information is taken for granted, with a difficult childhood and time in a chauvinistic Paris presented in short scenes that are hard to digest. The trio that makes up the remaining cast – Gethin Alderman, Ben Bela Böhm and Sharon Drain – are overworked and the results unpleasant. There are a lot of accents and poor attempts at establishing weakly written characters.

Things improve… a little. As the Resistance work becomes riskier, causing concern to the paranoid Germans, Cahun and Moore are captured and undergo interrogation, imprisonment and almost execution. At times it is hard to believe they were taken so seriously (the “Soldier with no name” Cahun took as her identity was presumed to be German and part of a whole terrorist cell). But it really is a compelling story and that Cahun’s confession was not believed a fine touch.

Again, though, the delivery isn’t strong enough. Bringing out farcical moments is a good idea. Like the art Cahun left behind in Paris, you might say the situation was surreal. But the comedy lacks bite and detracts from the tension. Furlong tries to keep up a pace, but the effect is clumsy. There’s a final twist that is strong. In the search for who Cahun is, do we forget the identity of their companion? It’s Moore’s photography that has made Cahun memorable, yet her name is even less well known. Such insight into the perils of biography is admirable, but not enough to compensate for so many mistakes.

Until 12 July 2025

www.southwarkplayhouse.co.uk

Photo by Paddy Gormley

2019

“The Flies” at the Bunker Theatre

Exchange Theatre brings famous foreign works, seldom seen in the UK, to London and great credit to it for this. Alternating weekly between performances in English and French, the company remit feels increasingly important in our potentially insular times. And this chance to see Jean-Paul Sartre’s 1943 play is far too rare. Maybe it’s the high stakes – or great expectations – that make the production a disappointment. Regrettably, it cannot be recommended.

Sartre’s take on the story of Electra has the people of Argos enthralled by a cult of communal repentance, inspired by Aegisthus and Clytemnestra’s tortured guilt over the murder of Agamemnon. Examining how religion and fear control people should be a theatrical godsend. But the multi-disciplinary approach of director David Furlong ends up messy – a gnomic nightmare of techniques with a laboured pace that is purgatorial.

The cast suffers from characterisations that seldom work and ideas about presenting myth that never take off. Raul Fernandes proves one exception, as a rather natty Jupiter, who is allowed ambiguity. But attempts at modernising the story look cheap. While there’s good work from Soraya Spiers, attempts at physicality, from hand gestures to running around the stage, are generally poor. The “half human creatures”, by turn the populace and the Furies, come close to being embarrassing in their gowns and pointy hats, then fishnet tights and high heels. There are simply too many predictable attempts to be odd for the sake of it. Yet another problem (oh dear) is the live soundtrack. Not that the music is bad or poorly performed – by a group called A Riot In Heaven – but it proves distracting and the cast have to fight with it. Audibility is an issue too many times.

There’s a little more joy with the central roles of Electra and Orestes, played by Meena Rayann and Samy Elkhatib. Their youthful appeal suits both play and production. Injecting energy into some admittedly stilted lines proves a sometimes painful struggle. Elkhatib even has to use the word swashbuckling and ends up wooden too often, while Rayann appears too eager, too mad too quickly. Lessons could be learned from Juliet Dante who, fittingly, takes the part of The Tutor with calm. It’s not just appropriate to the role but makes the performance feel less forced. Rayaan and Elkhatib get better as the show goes on, and Electra’s bad faith and Orestes’ turn as a rock star are at least interesting.

To see Sartre mapped on to a Greek story is fascinating. It illuminates his philosophy as well as the classical tradition and calls into question cultural heritage. Existentialism may not be fashionable right now, but these ideas changed lives, and Sartre’s radical freedom can still shock and excite. It’s not that Exchange Theatre prevents his work from being clear – that would be unforgivable. But the production does nothing to serve him. Bad ideas circle the show like flies around… well, you know the saying.

Until 6 July 2019

www.bunkertheatre.com