Inside
the theatre, it's almost as cold as the unforgiving winter
outside. Although it's mid-performance, many of the audience remain
huddled in their overcoats, scarves wrapped around themselves like blankets -
their breath foggy vapour in the chilled air. This is not your average theatre.
Instead, we are deep in the Old Vic Tunnels, a sprawling maze of unused space
beneath Waterloo Station- and currently the venue for the recent revival of
Eugene O'Neill's early Sea Plays. Cavernous, dimly-lit, and steeped in history,
these atmospheric vaults are the perfect setting for these plays- an exciting
and brilliantly original interpretation that leaves us all at sea. From
beginning to end, director Kenneth Hoyt expertly steers us deep into O’Neill’s
turbulent mind- navigating us from the unremarkable venue entrance, underground
into the tunnels and then past half-naked men stoking coal in a fiery furnace
en route to the theatre. Plunging us headfirst into the visceral, gruelling
life aboard a 20th century tramp steamer. And to think this incredible
venue lies below people on their everyday commute. A subterranean diamond in
the rough, if ever the West End Fringe had one.
Penned
between 1914 and 1917, this trilogy of one-act sea plays, inspired by O'Neill's
own seafaring experience, is a brief but intense snapshot of the gritty life at
sea. Opening with Bound East for Cardiff as a violent storm lashes
the vessel, the unique tunnel setting instantly comes into dramatic force- as
the rumbling of trains overhead double for roars of thunder. Together with
dramatic lighting, a few buckets of water (so glad I wasn’t sitting in the front
row), and the whole cast shouting, the storm was utterly convincing. Hello
acoustics. Alarmingly, it felt as if we too were aboard the weather-beaten ship
- rotting below deck alongside these battered and homesick sailors. As one
sailor, Yank, is severely injured in the commotion, the storm simply dies down
into the mental anguish of the dying Yank and his sentimental Irish colleague
who tries to comfort him. This is vintage O’Neill, after all. To say his works
are depressing would be a vast understatement. The excellent Matt Trevannion
conveys the anguish and despair as his friend slowly dies - and as the
cast sing "For Those in Peril on the Sea" whilst casting Yank's body
to the waves- it would be safe to say a collective chill went down the
audience's spine.
But
in the second play, In the Zone, O'Neill reminds us that such
claustrophobic living quarters below deck brews suspicion and distrust almost
as readily as it breeds this opening homoerotic relationship. A reticent
shipmate is falsely accused of being a German spy as cabin fever breeds trouble
and unrest. There's a restlessness to all these men at sea who dream of
nothing but a happy life at home. As Yank observes, this is a life of
"travellin all over the world and never seein none of it". A line
that takes on added poignancy by the final play, The Long Voyage Home,
which tells the story of a homesick Swedish sailor who is cruelly shanghaied as
he attempts to pay his passage home. This is trademark O'Neill intensity
blowing a full-force gale throughout- by the interval, I guarantee you will
need to escape to the nautical-themed bar for a drop of something strong.
But
although it's an intense production, it's a bracing one- a tidal wave of
powerful drama that resurrects these rare plays and brings O’Neill’s foggy pea
soup world to life. The roll and swell of the sea echo loudly throughout
O’Neill’s plays - it leaves its tidal mark without restraint. Take The
Iceman Cometh, set in a waterfront saloon, or Edmund Tyrone recalling the
ecstasy of his past life at sea in A Long Day’s Journey Into Night: “For a
moment, I lost myself – actually lost my life. I was set free! I dissolved in
the sea, became white sails and flying spray, became beauty and rhythm, became
moonlight and the ship and the high dim-starred sky!” Such is the intensity of
this production that we too get lost in the rhythm of this seafaring life. From
the tiny theatre as crammed as below deck itself, to the dramatic sound
and lighting and the magnificent ensemble cast (their sailors' vernacular is
spot on), this is brilliant stuff. My advice? Set sail with the cast now.
With the production washing ashore on February 18th, there aren't many days
left for you to become a stowaway. Just make sure you wear a coat...
No comments:
Post a Comment