REVIEW: Second Soprano, King's Head ✭✭✭✭✭

Photo: Richard Davenport Second Soprano

King’s Head Theatre, Islington

19 June 2015

In this theatre season where commemoration and remembrance of the outbreak of the First World War are much to the fore, many of the most successful dramatic ventures are small-scale. In some ways this fine double-act, written by Martha Shrimpton and Ellie Routledge, and performed by Shrimpton and Olivia Hirst, is the mirror-image of Stony Broke in No Man’s Land, which I reviewed here recently. Both are virtuosic displays of actorly craft, using multiple genres, creating manifold roles, and mixing mood and manner, music and words to create an ineffable and individual blend of humour and pathos. As a result the act of commemoration is made more complex and ultimately, I would say, more moving, than a simple, full-on narrative or historical approach. As a historian during the daylight hours you might be surprised to hear me say this, and it is often the case that the truth is stranger than any kind of dreamt-up fiction. However, by disruption, subversion and reordering of the facts art can sometimes burrow down to reach a deeper emotional truth about the past and that is the artistic achievement of this dynamic duo that stands alongside their sheer technical bravura.

Much of the action alternates between the Home Front, here represented by a Yorkshire kitchen, and the Western Front itself. We begin in 1914, and sisters Jane (Hirst) and Liz (Shrimpton) contemplate what they can do to contribute to the war effort. Jane decides to join up as a nurse and Liz stays put and helps run the local post office. Jane leaves behind a sweetheart, Henry, also played by Hirst, who continues to try to write to her while also developing an awkward intimacy with Liz. The action then shifts to the Western Front where Jane quickly learns the possibilities and shocking limitations of what nursing can achieve. We also have scenes in the trenches in which Henry, now enlisted, and a friend of his, both come under fire; and by a sequence of accidents a talisman brooch finds its way back to Jane. The story is loosely based on the real-life experiences of Shrimpton’s grandmother. All the episodes in the story are punctuated by songs, some freshly composed by the writers, some taken from musical hall and cabaret genres of the day, some solos and some duets, some accompanied on the accordion, and others on a wheezy piano. There is continuous dynamic movement making full use of the resources of the stage, and a great improvisatory freedom, which even successfully accommodates moments of random and unexpected humour provoked by a squeaky floor!

So what marks out this show as special? Above all perhaps the variety of tone at the command of the performers, both verbal and visual. They can shift on a sixpence from arch, brittle, post-modern mockery that sounds straight out of Fawlty Towers or Oh, What a lovely war!, through to the fear and resentment of soldiers under fire, to plangency and warm empathy in the nursing station, and to wry comedy at each other’s expense. The fact that the play does not always evolve in the predictable order of naturalism makes you think more carefully about the subject-matter, and its meaning. The fact that it can be treated in different ways and moods simultaneously serves to show the complexity of the events and the different simultaneously valid viewpoints. There is also an impressive visual sense at work here. In the hospital scenes, for example, Hirst hold up and walks alongside empty shirts to usher and help wounded soldiers to imaginary pallets: that is just one of many gestures of poignant economy at work in this piece that capture and distil moments that a traditional drama would linger over to lesser effect (eg almost a whole series of Downton Abbey!) While we are by no means always given the full facts we do get given all the core emotions and from many different angles too. It is a very sensual piece of work: there are several brilliantly evocative moments in which both players engage in sound improvisations in front of a microphone that are gradually amplified and repeated as recordings.. gradually you are taken off into the atmosphere of one of those long-lost eternal English summer days that were supposed to be part of that summer of 1914; or we are plunged into the noises of shell fire and trench warfare just after a minute or so of vocalizing. Technique and emotional intention are working together very effectively here.

The piece only lasts an hour, but you feel by the end of it that you have followed the actors and writers on a longer psychological journey than that would suggest. Both players are as effective at playing the male as the female characters, and at distinguishing between them. Jane comes across as dedicated, principled and noble, but not starchy or prissy; Liz, on the other hand, is more worldly, sensuous and emotionally fragile than her sister. Long-suffering Henry is not very bright, but still becomes a symbol for the long-suffering Tommy who endures. Shrimpton also throws in a fine cameo as a hard-faced senior nurse, who hides her increasing inability to cope behind a manic efficiency – an all-too-familiar type in wartime. Music operates as direct commentary, as discreet underscoring, as contemporary documentary material and as satire. It is symptomatic of an increasing trend in contemporary theatre to blur the boundaries between plays and musicals. This development is of great potential benefit to both, allowing the emotional resources and reach of words and music to overlap and wash over each other very creatively, like waves of different dimensions on the same beach.

This play had a very successful run at the Arts Theatre before moving to the King’s Head, and it deserves to be seen again in a larger venue, perhaps at the Edinburgh Festival. However, in the meantime, don’t hesitate to catch it during this current run. We shall surely be hearing more of these versatile and highly inventive actors and their memorable vehicle.

Second Soprano runs at The King's Head Theatre until 4 July 2015