Author Leon Fleming and director Scott le Crass worked on last year’s Sid which showed how the anger and anxiety of forty years’ ago was still relevant to today’s alienated youth. Kicked in the Sh*tter – surely the title of the year, especially when the call went out for the start of the performance! – picks up with a more specific examination of the causes of our disaffection in this care-less age: the War on Welfare and the return of concepts of a "deserving" poor.
But the play doesn’t follow any easy lines and Fleming
challenges your perceptions throughout, as James Clay’s character says, he may
be playing a tune but he’s not on the fiddle. The system is rigged so that you
have to sing the song and that’s just another of the ways in which self-respect
is eroded.
The story concerns two nowhere-near-just-about-coping
siblings in inner city Birmingham and jumps back and forth between their
teenage dreams – chatting over a large bottle of illicit Lambrini about their
problems, their parents and the future. She is played by Helen Budge and he is played
by James Clay.
Helen Budge |
From the start elder sister sets the agenda and younger
brother kind of follows in his own messed up way. He has mental health issues and has
self-medicated from teenage onwards using and abusing drink, drugs – both prescription
and under the counter. Depression makes him believe he cannot work and he lives
in the terrible shadow of the dark impenetrability of his condition – he can’t
live with it and he can’t live without it – mutually-assured destruction is the
only cure he can believe in although he’s absolutely well enough to not wish
that on himself… he may have “tried” it once but as he says, if he really tried
he’d be dead.
By contrast, big sister is a carer for their mother as
well as her two young children from a long-departed father. She really wants
to work but can’t make the time as there’s no one to look after the children or
her mother; she is in a cycle of poverty that leaves her in one heart-rending
scene pleading with the “social” after spending her last tenner on electricity…
she has no money left for food but has been docked her income support for
refusing to take a job. These sanctions rob her of money and respect but she
has no one to back her up, least of all her brother who is trapped in his own
pre-medicated loop of no confidence: the drugs may work but they don’t make him work. Maybe all addiction is a Möbius strip that reduces willpower along
with the anxieties the medication is designed to suppress.
James Clay |
As the pair go through their own income support assessments
Fleming illustrates dispassionately how the process fails almost all-comers. She
can – possibly – obtain income support if she declares herself a carer but this
won’t be any more than the Job Seeker’s Allowance that is suspended and
besides, she wants to work. It’s a vicious cycle that fails to address the real
issues.
In the end something has to give and it is she rather
than he who comes close to oblivion. As she recovers from her suicide attempt
suddenly her brother steps up as much as he can but maybe more than he thought…
looking after the children and supporting her as best he can.
This is no fairy tale ending but there is hope as he talks
honestly to his sister, perhaps emboldened by surprise at his own usefulness.
In a very powerful moment we see her talking to a
psychiatrist about her brother’s weakness and self obsession: her illness has
seen him address her situation through a prism of his own psychosis… but she recognises he’s grown up a bit too.
Believably real and so effortlessly genuine, Kicked in
the Sh*tter is as full of hope as despair and is quite brilliantly acted by the
two leads.
Not hiding away... |
You can hide away in the Garrick or the National but in
the Hope every inflection can be caught and any false thoughts can betray
performers. Budge and Clay are more than up to the task and thoroughly convince
throughout in this vital, provoking play for today.
You’re drawn inevitably to Budge, her character caring
and single-handedly keeping her family afloat and she gives a fierce, desperately
honest performance of grit and vulnerability. Clay is also mightily impressive
as the man with younger-brother syndrome (I know!) who is self-deluded and
self-medicated in equal measure until the time comes to finally start lifting
himself up.
There’s hope but we all need help. As a band* that
frequently played in the Hope’s basement used to sing; Something Better Change.
Tip of the hat to Justin Williams’s inventive design and
the direction which made Helen do most of the lifting - so typical! Teresa Nagel also did
sterling work with the lighting and effects… you can see how everything works
so well at the Hope!
Kicked on the
Sh*tter runs at The Hope Theatre, Islington, N1 1RL until 8th
April – I would urge you not to miss it! Book tickets here.
Ithankyou Theatre rating: *****
*That'll be The Stranglers for all you youngsters... back in 1977.
*That'll be The Stranglers for all you youngsters... back in 1977.
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