Showing posts with label Terry Johnson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Terry Johnson. Show all posts

Tuesday, 30 January 2018

Seeker after truth... Ken, The Bunker Theatre


The bunker was laid out like a post-trippy nightclub, with Persian carpets, tables and chairs all mildly shrouded by the smell of joss sticks as Donna Summer and Spaced played us in: this was the mid-seventies between counter-culture and punk. At around that time as a 14-year old I was buying LPs in Liverpool’s Probe Records and used to be fascinated by ads for The Science Fiction Theatre of Liverpool and a mysterious play called Illuminatus! I still have the flyers in a box complete with programmes for the Playhouse and Everyman, my Eric’s membership cards, old NMEs, Zigzags (a punk fanzine) and a collection of the mind-expanding Brainstorm Comix!

Forty years on and finally I get to find out more about the man behind this arcane theatre, Ken Campbell, a radical presence who influenced not just a generation of off-beat actors such as Bill Nighy, Jim Broadbent and Sylvester McCoy but also the Liverpool scene in general including Bill Drummond – member of the seminal Big in Japan (a scouse super-group – look ‘em up, la!), manager of the Teardrops and Bunnymen and from there to the KLF. Campbell was an instinctive iconoclast with an energy that brought out the best from some and drove many others away.

For playwright Terry Johnson he was “…my friend, champion and occasional nemesis…” and the man who placed his finger directly on his sternum and told him that he needed to turn his “switch” on! It was a moment of intense personal connection and one that Johnson still cherishes; it helped drive him on to success as a director and innovative writer himself – I’d seen a revival of his Insignificance only a few months back and its star, his daughter, was in attendance tonight.

Terry Johnson
Johnson wrote and acts in this play and it is as disarmingly personal portrait of Ken that shows the good and bad of their relationship. Lisa Spirling directs with real style and has Ken (played by another former collaborator, Jeremy Stockwell) positioned in the audience ready to spring up when we least expected and from there on to break the fourth wall into so many pieces.

It’s a bold production that makes the most of the intimate energy this direction generates. Johnson’s words flow so beautifully well on occasion but they’re also from the heart and it is hard to imagine that they are all of them so easily said. But, his switch is “on” and he is infused with the spirit of his friend, emboldened into telling us all of Campbell’s call to just do it!

The play starts when Terry met Ken and ended up being cast in one of his plays, this time the sprawling 24-hour The Warp based on the life of Neil Oram. After Campbell had decided Oram’s original play was rubbish, he told him he wanted to “write him” and, together (maybe) they produced a script 14 inches deep that was to be performed in just six days in Edinburgh at the run-down Regal Theatre which the crew also needed to renovate. The result still holds the record for the longest play ever performed and being such a marathon, once required moving cast and audience to a tennis court to keep everyone awake.

Campbell was famous for the greeting “good evening seekers!” and was always on a journey to find new experience and to challenge those daydreaming through life. He was surrounded by a gang of talented eccentrics, John Joyce, a woman called Mia who Johnson considered the most beautiful he has ever seen (even as he doubts her existence as a single entity…), Daisy (his daughter with actress Prunella Gee, who is now also a playwright), not to mention Hoskins, Conti, Lord James Broadbent and Chris Langham.

Terry Johnson and Jeremy Stockwell
Ken was full on and sometimes would look straight in you challenging any wayward complacency or phony thoughts. He was also a one for grand-scale pranks and once re-titled the RSC the Royal Dickens Company on the grounds that they did more 19th than 16th Century work. He contacted the actors and issued press releases succeeding in convincing enough people that Trevor Nunn had to come out and deny that it was happening.

It’s an intensely personal exercise for Johnson and a brave one as well he’s acting himself through some of the most important moments of his life and the barrier between performance Terry and actual Terry must be wafer thin. But you know that Ken, if he is anywhere else, and who knows, maybe the Illuminati spirited him away…, would nod in approval before launching off on yet another scheme.

Jeremy Stockwell is so energetically convincing as Ken that the great man might as well be in the room. It’s good that the role is in the hands of another friend and he does his old pal full justice with outrageous eyebrows, eyes on full twinkle and a cackle that is straight from deepest, darkest Campbell.

All photographs courtesy of Robert Day
Ken is life-affirming, and because it plays around us, the message also infuses us as watchers… watchers can only do one thing and, you just know, we have to start being seekers!

Ken runs at The Bunker Theatre until 24th February and if you don’t go you’ll simply never know how to turn yourself on!


IThankYouTheatre Rating: ***** It has to be for Johnson’s bravery and for Ken the Seeker.





Tuesday, 24 October 2017

Who do you think you are? Insignificance, Arcola Theatre


“That’s the trouble, a sex symbol becomes a thing… I just hate being a thing…”   Marilyn Monroe or Norma Jeane Mortenson

People should be queuing around the block to see Marilyn Monroe explaining her take on the theory of relativity to Albert Einstein… it’s to do with a green train, a red train, two flashlights owned by Mickey and by Donald…

It has been over 20 years since Terry Johnson’s play Insignificance was last performed in London and now, when our faith in expertise is being questioned, the possibility of the glamorous even attempting to digest theoretical physics is challenging. We don’t know if Miss Monroe dabbled in physics but we do know that she was a lot more intelligent than her carefully-crafted persona allowed her to let on.

She was not the first to dumb down for her audience but she carried it off in style enjoying Groucho Marx’s description of her persona as a combination of Theda Bara (a knowing soul herself), Mae West and Little Bo-Peep.

It is all relative: Alice Bailey Johnson and Simon Rouse
She was famously married to baseball legend Joe DiMaggio, a man who here confesses to enjoying being “stupid” and deliberately choosing not to engage but it’s not clear whether she met Senator Joe McCarthy, here portrayed as a solipsist who believes that he is the only one who exists and that everyone else is a figment of his imagination – that would explain a lot Joe.

The three converge on a mid-town hotel in the play as Marilyn knocks on Albert’s door in the middle of the night, looking for an intelligent conversation and perhaps more… Albert is lost in the music of mathematics as he weighs up whether or not to testify in front of McCarthy’s House Committee on Un-American Activities. He’s a man of honour as Joe D will later suggest but he too is hiding himself, away from his two broken marriages, his estranged daughter, institutionalised son and the dread of what his theories have unleashed on the World.

He imagines the horrors of Hiroshima and Nagasaki whilst the senator wants his voice precisely because he wasn’t directly connected with the bomb unlike those such as Oppenheimer who applied his theories in devastating fashion…

Given all of this it’s not surprising that Albert and Marilyn should hit it off like a house on fire…

Say it ain't so, Joe...
Johnson’s daughter Alice Bailey Johnson makes for a marvellous Monroe from the moment she spills into Albert’s room clutching a brown-paper bag full of items to demonstrate relativity to the professor. She’s got the dress but you have to be brave to exude “Monroe” and Alice delivers in some style!  It’s the night when the skirt-blowing scene for The Seven Year Itch was filmed and following announcements in the newspapers, the late night shoot has been witnessed by thousands each projecting their own desires onto the actress. But Einstein doesn’t know who she is… to her delight: at last, someone she can be herself with!

Simon Rouse takes on another tough task… it’s not easy being Albert either and he carries it with the easy-charm you’d expect of such a cerebral man. Famously the scientist only focused on the thoughts that were useful and tried to forget the “excess” – he’s not absent-minded, just focused and, with Marilyn, he finds someone he can open up to. The more you watch the play, the more these two appear meant for each other… Johnson’s writing is so strong on character and consistency of sentiment.

The senator slimes into the room...
The two Joes are well-played by Oliver Hembrough, whose chewing-gum popping DiMageo barely understands his wife other than as a physical experience, and Tom Mannion playing McCarthy as an ego-maniac for whom cruelty was an extension of his self-definition. They are both distractions who fail to acknowledge what’s actually playing out in front of them.

But it’s those who have the most to hide who express themselves the clearest and we would do well in this era of the fake and the phony to recognise their truth.

Insignificance plays at the Arcola Theatre until Saturday 18th November – tickets and more details are available on their website. It's an excellent venue all round and one of E8's finest gems!

IThankYou Rating: ****

All photographs from Alex Brenner