Many of the actors are very good, but it is not that easy to identify them. Unusually for the Royal Court, no text of the script (complete with full biographies of the cast) was available by way of a programme. “The play is still being written” was the explanation.
It’s an evocative, alarming and thought-provoking piece of political theatre. Wild, bizarre, absurd and delightful – well worth seeing.
At ninety minutes, it’s worthwhile time in the theatre. But better casting would have resulted in an experience that might have matched Es Devlin’s extraordinary set.
It was all that I could do to keep conscious for most of the First Act. The loud snoring of a fellow patron assisted more in that feat than the script, concept or performances.
There is a simply amazing moment when the set literally starts to crack up or, depending on how you look at it, begins to drown – just as the central character, Andrew Scott’s troubled rock supremo, Paul, finds his personal world crumbling around him, finds himself drowning in a sea of excess, selfishness and solitude.
Tovey gives a first rate performance. He attacks the part with every fibre of his being and gives the dialogue more joy and menace than it deserves. Even he, however, struggles to make the peculiar second Act interesting and plausible.
