Tag Archives: Maanuv Thiara

“Boys on the Verge of Tears” at the Soho Theatre

For lovers of new writing, the Verity Bargate award is a big deal. Selected from 1500 entries by prestigious judges, this year’s winner from Sam Grabiner is fantastic piece full of ambition and a sense of adventure.

Set entirely in a gents toilet (Ashley Martin-Davis’s set could win another award) the piece is made up of “movements” – pun surely intended – that show the ages of men: from childhood, as teens at school, out on the town, and through to old age.

The conceit is even more audacious than it sounds. Themes and ideas recur and reflect on one another. A dad waiting for his boy finds a parallel to a sick man being helped by his new stepson. Scenarios are in flow, pretty much untethered by specific date or place.

There are 39 characters, most of them substantial, and only five performers so the number of roles they take is incredible. There are stumbles, but impressively few. Discrepancies in age or contrasts with scenes we’ve just watched are used to great effect. 

It’s interesting to pick out favourite roles from such a great selection.

Boys-on-the-Verge-of-Tears-photo-Marc-Brenner

Tom Espiner is stunning in the penultimate scene as a dying man, giving a hugely sensitive performance. Matthew Beard is great as leery teen, Jack, who despite being pretty disgusting is oddly endearing. Maanuv Thiara and David Carlyle have a smashing scene as characters who name themselves Maureen Lipman and Vanessa Feltz, delivering brilliant lines worthy of stand-up comedy. Finally, Calvin Demba might well steal the show as a young man who has been attacked: his concussion is convincing and the character’s fate dramatic.

In truth, all the performers balance humour and a sense of concern brilliantly.

The dialogue is a huge achievement, with different ages, classes, and various degrees of intoxication, all written assuredly. Grabiner gets considerable tension out of variety and director James Macdonald draws this out with skill. Be it offensive jokes or violence, even the shocking lack of hand washing, there’s a tension between sympathy and anxiety time and time again.

There are effortful moments. There are self-conscious tries to shock, obvious attempts to be experimental, and scenes that shout a message. But note: the piece succeeds in shocking, the experiments are interesting (two cleaners working in silence proves strangely fascinating), and Grabiner’s ideas about the body and our relationships to it are worth hearing.

While many of the circumstances or issues raised could be ticked off a list, Boys on the Verge of Tears is full of unpredictable moments. There are touches of whimsy, the surreal, and even horror. It seems Grabiner could write for any genre. And let’s not forget costume supervisor Zoe Thomas-Webb, who is kept very busy. All the scenes are strong and if some might not be missed, that’s interesting too, making me think of Alice Birch’s [Blank], with 100 scenes that can be selected for each production. It’s easy to see a bright future for both play and writer. This one is a five-star winner.

Until 18 May 2024

www.sohotheatre.com

Photos by Marc Brenner

“The Cherry Orchard” at The Yard Theatre

Chekhov in space turns out to be a great idea. Vinay Patel’s inspired version of the Russian classic has theatre’s most famous trees on a spaceship that is searching out a new home for humanity. The mission is led by successive generations of clones, who have plenty of time to philosophise while those below deck do the work. With a new take on an aristocracy (whose members are actually inbred) and plenty of speculation on the human condition, Patel’s adaptation is stellar.

It makes sense that the astronauts are either wildly busy keeping the ageing ship going or have plenty of time to lounge around displaying a mix of ennui and desperation you can recognise as Russian. But Patel’s version stands happily on its own – you don’t have to know the source material. True, some dialogue is clunky (maybe it seems strangely dated)? But the characters are dealing with the weight of the past, even if the action is set in the future. The mission started centuries ago and how much old aims and rituals should shape lives becomes a burning question.

The performances are overall good – but not all are great. While Patel handles the classic plus another genre on top, juggling both proves too much for some actors, who seem stuck in a more traditional version of the play. There’s some waving of hands (ironically, explicitly warned against in the script) and stagey yawning (you know the type). And some delivery emphasises rather than accommodates long-winded speeches. It should be stressed that possibly the hardest role, a reimagining of the play’s manservant, isn’t part of these reservations. Despite being literally robotic, Hari Mackinnon’s Feroze is full of life.

Thankfully, a central trio of relationships – between the Captain, one of her daughters and an aspiring engineer – is strong, with excellent performances from Anjali Jay, Tripti Tripuraneni and Maanuv Thiara, respectively. Jay’s matronly role is aided by a focus on the fate of her son that leads to emotional moments. Her character aims to be “warm but at a remove”. That she does not quite manage this gives Jay a great deal to work with.

The production glides over some of the odder moments of Chekhov – the characters’ strange emotional intelligence and obsessions – which Patel, wisely, doesn’t linger on. All that misery and unrequited love can prove tiring if the pace isn’t strict, and director James Macdonald handles this perfectly. There’s also an atmosphere of menace that is particularly impressive.

Final praise goes to the convincing design. Even a decrepit spaceship on a budget isn’t easy, but Rosie Elnile makes shabby touches work for her. And her design suits the space perfectly. The use of a revolve and windows in the ship are simple, subtle and effective. Which really sums up the whole production. Behind the headline of a radical new version, the show works in a clear and concise manner.

www.theyardtheatre.co.uk

Until 22 October 2022

Photo by Johan Persson