THE WAR NEXT DOOR. To 3 March.
London
THE WAR NEXT DOOR
by Tamsin Oglesby
Tricycle Theatre To 3 March 2007
Mon-Sat 8pm Mat Sat 4pm & 14, 28 Feb 2pm
BSL Signed 20 Feb
Runs 1hr 25min No interval
TICKETS: 02- 7328 1000
www.tricycle.co.uk
Review: Timothy Ramsden 7 February
Play that doesn’t live up to its own programme-note
Tamsin Oglesby has written a very interesting article for her new play’s programme. It follows a complex line from Saddam Hussein through her rowing neighbours to social attitudes.
She’s written a less interesting play, working-out an extended metaphor. Once the idea’s been grasped, what happens, though not predicted, seems after the event predictable.
Liberal barrister Max and coloured wife Soph (he’s never loved a white woman, white Max says, an interesting statement never followed up) live next to Ali and Hana, ethnic origins left vague but presumed somewhere in the region where former Soviet states meet Middle East, and assumedly Muslim.
Ali’s the big bully, so sure he’s right he demands Hana assist in the ritual for thrashing her. Max intervenes to no great end, and the final outcome’s left to Ali’s near-silent son, who’s been linked with violence throughout.
Two troubles: try as she can Oglesby merely demonstrates received opinion about the easterners, delving only into the western-value pair. And though she gives Soph a sleepy final monologue, everyone knows audiences listen much less to monologues than to action-related speech. And Max is the focus of action. His decisions govern the arguments; he is the one who relates both to Soph and Ali.
So, the play veers towards another examination of the liberal conscience as mere veneer. Yes, but. Life offers examples to show that’s not universally so. Then again, Oglesby’s main idea was explored more fully years ago in David Halliwell’s 1978 play Prejudice - which did challenge easy liberal assumptions.
And she has written in a sort of verse. I couldn’t make out any stress or alliterative patterns, just unequally spaced, intrusive rhymes. There’s nothing verse-like about the prosaic expression. The result is mostly prose with some jangling rhyme, or an occasional move, as in Soph’s final sleepy speech, to something that’s less poetic flight than a just-above-the-ground hover.
A fine cast work hard; director Nicolas Kent and his team throw plenty of stylish devices at the staging. The material has some interest. But the theme’s already there in the programme note; the fleshed-out play’s its prisoner.
Soph: Lorraine Burroughs
Ali: Jonathan Coyne
Max: David Michaels
Bobby: Sonny Muslim
Hana: Badria Timimi
Director: Nicolas Kent
Designer: Libby Watson
Lighting: Lucy Carter
Sound: Adam Cork
Fight director: Philip D’Orleans
2007-02-08 16:00:32