The Beast's Pen

Photo: Pamela Raith

Writer: Andrew Stein

Director: Hersh Ellis

⭐️⭐️

This review is written by a living, breathing human being, a point that seems worth making in view of the imminent advance of Artificial  Intelligence (AI). Hopefully the same declaration can be made by Andrew Stein with regard to his ultra-modern morality tale, unfortunately titled as the press performance coincides with widespread disruption on the London Underground.

Oliver Alvin-Wilson brings a Satanic presence to the role of disruptor-in-chief whose name is Nick (obviously). His challenge is to persuade three old friends, all New Yorkers, to sell their souls to him by investing in the development of a new all-seeing, all-doing algorithm. He claims that George Clooney has already jumped on board, so it must be a safe bet. Nick’s sidekick in this venture is the alluring Raven (Sasha Desouza-Willock), the character presumably named in honour of master of the macabre Edgar Allan Poe.

The three friends – Ben (Nathaniel Curtis), Paul (Nick Read) and Barry (Kevin Shen) – are involved in tangled relationships with three women – Mia (Rosanna Hyland), Suzie (Debbie Korley) and Jill (Mika Simmons). The algorithm promises to provide the answers to all life’s key dilemmas, such as: should we buy a run-down brownstone property in Brooklyn that we can’t afford? Should we have a baby? Should we stay married?

Tracking the ups and downs of six self-obsessed, angst-ridden New York professionals, the play often resembles a triple bill of Friends episodes, strung together and modernised. There seems to be no situation that cannot be improved with a wisecrack, suiting Stein’s liking for piling on the clichés. Dire warnings of the dangers of AI, along the same lines as those issued by our politicians almost daily, are incorporated into the script, but they become secondary to the relationship stories and the devilish Nick disappears into the background in the second act.

No on-stage chair is left unmoved in director Hersh Ellis’s brash, futuristic staging, which comes with projected images and, briefly near the end, bizarre movement. A special mention also goes to lighting designer Robbie Butler for dazzling us with special effects, although some sections of the audience could appreciate more effort being put into making all the actors visible.

Jumping on the bandwagon of our newest cause for collective paranoia, Disruption is slick, smart and empty, more disappointing than disrupting. If this is a glimpse into the theatre of the future, let’s give AI a chance to do better..

Performance date: 13 July 2023

Photo: Manuel Harlan

Writer: Michael Wynne

Director: Vicky Featherstone

⭐️⭐️⭐️

The pressures of the modern, ever-changing world could become enough to drive many of us to a bout of severe agoraphobia. Michael Wynne’s amiable new family-based comedy explores this possibility through the plight of Megyn, a recent school leaver without qualifications, prospects or ambitions, who locks herself away to become a cuckoo in her grandmother’s nest.

In a town in Northwest England, four women gather for their evening meal at the home of Doreen (Sue Jenkins), who had been widowed four years earlier. Her daughter Sarah (Jodie McNee) teaches at a school in an area of social deprivation and her other daughter Carmel (Michelle Butterly) is a sales assistant at a branch of Boots in a dying High Street. 17-year-old Megyn (Emma Harrison), Carmel’s daughter, sits quietly, barely touching her food, before shooting off upstairs to Doreen’s bedroom.

The women discuss depressing news stories that flash up on their smart phones – international terrorism, climate change and so on – painting a picture of a hostile world outside their cosy family unit. Frequently, their conversations are interrupted by the sounds of ring tones as it becomes clear that their phones dominate their lives. Doreen is addicted to trading on E-Bay, Sarah scrolls down photos of someone that she does not even know, they text each other while in the same house and Megyn sleeps with her mobile phone in her hand. Perhaps, Sarah decides, the only way to make real contact is to turn off the broadband.

Peter McIntosh’s set design, a nondescript living room with a shabby red fitted carpet, provides the perfect backdrop for the family as they devour their takeaway fish and chips supper. Actually, director Vicky Featherstone’s production stops well short of patronising northerners, but Wynne’s writing is patchy in finding the level of piercing wit, drawn from everyday language, that might have flowed naturally from, say, Alan Bennett. 

The four performances are consistently engaging, fleshing out the characters as much as the script allows, but, on the few occasions when the audience is asked to invest in them emotionally, the warmth is lacking. At times, it feels as if the comedy needs the women to be played  more as outright caricatures, conflicting with the human stories which require them to be played as recognisable real people. Crucially, while concentrating on the social by-products of the internet age, the writer does not find a way to articulate adequately Megyn’s inner turmoil.

Wynne’s play takes aim at a wide range of serious and complex targets, while perhaps fewer would have given it sharper focus. This, together with the play’s comedic approach, means that it amuses but it never really takes flight.

Performance date: 12 July 2023