Naima Khan reviews a double bill of Edward Bond's Chair Plays at Lyric Hammersmith
Have I None
Of the two Edward Bond plays performed tonight, the ferocious imagery of Have I None makes it the most memorable, hands down. Even after it's almost blacked out by the excessively long production of The Under Room which follows it, Have I None sticks in the mind like a splinter. It appears as if from nowhere, exploding off a nearly blank set thanks to the inescapable descriptions of loners who scramble over a dystopian world in which Sara and Jams are fortunate enough to have their own clinical corner where they are comforted by routine and ownership.
The first of these epic, descriptive monologues comes from Aidan Kelly, a force to be reckoned with in the role of Jams, who by turns disgusts, amazes and cracks us up as he tries pathetically and selfishly, in his own consciously conservative way, to establish a relationship with his increasingly paranoid wife. Their routine is already wavering before Grit, an endearingly sweet and hopeful Timothy O'Hara, turns up claiming to be Sara's brother. He has tales of mass suicide, wandering nomads and a longing to reconnect with his sister.
Butt Sara and Jams' conversations and questions may as well be outstretched swords as they simultaneously accuse Grit and try desperately and aggressively to protect themselves. It's all sewn together with a fantastic battle over who's allowed to sit in whose chair and the various meanings of such violations of their established practices. The ways these characters react to the words Bond has given them is reflective of a long list of human habits and natural instincts. But all they do is react, rarely is there an intelligent response from any of them. As with all The Chair Plays, Bond is saying something about the future and in Have I None, he shows us a world where we're quick to accuse and attack others in pursuit of “protecting” ourselves.
The Under Room
In contrast to Have I None, The Under Room, which accompanies it, doesn't so much provoke us to think as it does provoke us to guess. Directed by Edward Bond, the production is more than a little indulgent and, I felt, about half and hour too long but it is saved by the superb performances he elicits from his cast even if he gives them far too many words to say and fails to keep up the momentum.
Caring and questioning, Tanya Moodie faultlessly plays Joan, a sheltered, woman almost proud of being so closed off from the crumbling society that surrounds her. Not particularly wealthy but comfortably able to protect herself, she soon finds she is willing to put herself at risk to protect an illegal immigrant after he breaks into her home but poignantly, she remains unaware of much of the risk she is taking.
We learn about her vulnerability from a fierce Nicholas Gleaves who, by his own admission is a swindler, determined to exploit Joan's naivete. But he has something in common with the immigrant she shelters who is played with pathos and humour by Felix Scott. But annoyingly, we're always guessing at what this is, what got these characters here and why, when they're taking so long to get to the crux of the matter, should we care?
Like Joan, it's impossible for the audience to know who to trust, but I found myself assessing and reassessing her, questioning what I would do if I found myself in her position and why would someone would take the risks she takes? Is she displaying moral fibre and should I admire that? But I'm only ever guessing the answers because the play gives us little more to chew on beyond this character, it then refuses to end when it should and loses my attention. What's more, those earlier questions don't linger.
While Holmes' production succeeds in absorbing us in another world dangerously close to our own, Bond's far for more finicky show convinces us that The Under Room is a million miles away from where we are.
Have I None and The Under Room run as a double bill until 26th May and as part of a triple bill with Chair on 19th and 26th May.
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