Review: The Invisible, Bush Theatre ✭✭✭

Photo: Helen Maybanks The Invisible

Bush Theatre

18 July 2015

3 Stars

Book Tickets

"Don't worry about me. I am invisible. It's a super power, isn't it? As a kid you'd do anything for a cape of invisibility. But as you get older...Wordsworth, he described his first night in London and he saw Jack the Giant Killer on stage. And the Giant wore a huge notice saying 'Invisible'. And the Giant was huge but everyone accepted that he wasn't really there. I feel like that...sat outside the job centre. On a bench. That there is this ferment of emotion. But no one sees it... When I was growing up the poor were seen as unfortunates. Now they're seen as manipulative. Grasping. Scroungers. It's very sad...Society has always been divided. But in the past it was about giving alms to the poor. Now it's about kicking a dog when he's down. As though one were destitute through malice you know? Not circumstance or just a disinterest in money."

So speaks Shaun, an Irish man in his Sixties, in Rebecca Lenkiewicz' The Invisible, now having its premiere at The Bush Theatre. It is described as a play which "tells the stories of ordinary people whose access to legal aid has been denied, examining how the cuts are driving ever deeper cracks into the fabric of our society".

As directed by Michael Oakley, however, The Invisible seems meandering and disjointed, neither one thing nor another. Very odd musical/dance sequences, possibly dream/nightmare conceptualisations of the unspoken thoughts of characters, punctuate the action. It is never clear why characters suddenly burst into dance but the fact that it happens shatters the through line of the narrative.

At one point, it seemed possible that these diversions were an analogy for the intrusion of Government imposed funding cuts upon the needs of people in difficult circumstances. Wishful thinking perhaps, but all one could go with in an effort to make sense of the way Lenkiewicz' play was being presented by Oakley.

Next thought: perhaps he simply didn't trust the text? But an examination of the text reveals that Lenkiewicz intended these odd interludes, perhaps not exactly as Oakley has realised them, but certainly the spirit of them.

In the end, these sequences represent the key to what is wrong with Lenkiewicz' play: it tries to be too many things at once, ending up being not really anything.

Photo: Helen Maybanks

In these awful political times, when humanity is subverted by the desires of profit at every turn, when Governments openly declare war on cultural institutions by withdrawing funding, and the Arts are not considered as anything other than derisory or a place to entertain the wives of potential or current customers, theatre is an essential tool in making society face up to its inadequacies, its deficiencies, its appalling behaviour. A play examining the effects of the cancerous cuts to legal aid is urgently needed and The Bush Theatre is exactly where one would hope to see it.

But The Invisible is not that play.

Rather, it is a soap opera featuring some beautifully written female characters. It might skirt around the issue of legal aid cuts and the invisibility of some members of modern society, but it does not really have much to say about those matters and certainly does not present any kind of case, urgent or otherwise, for change. Rather, in a grab bag kind of way, it shines a light on issues (the horror of the bedroom tax for some people, self-representation in litigation and judicial responses thereto, domestic violence, grasping landlords, not getting what you bargain for on the Internet, the fading concept of job security), marks them as something which should be of universal concern, and limps on.

No story is completed. No wrongs are righted. Victims of the system suffer and then suffer some more. Those who might affect change are themselves challenged financially, but they have options. They have a future. The divide between those anointed, through education and hard work, and those who are not is as profound as ever.

Indeed, an argument could be mounted that the play is a sop for left-thinking types or Conservatives - by attending, they feel they have done something to right a wrong. Of course, they haven't. That is the danger with political theatre which is not quite brave enough. By failing to create agitation, outrage or insight, it can, in its own small way, perpetuate that which it seeks to set on fire.

Still, there is some excellent acting to enjoy.

Alexander Gilbeath is excellent as Gail, the highly strung, unbelievably committed, and expert immigration and domestic violence lawyer. She can organise her clients' lives and solve their problems, but she is hopeless when doing the same for herself. She has a penchant for dubious Internet dates and an ill-judged management style. Gilbeath shows Gail in all her glory and with all flaws exposed. She is funny and infuriating, but her passion for justice is profound. When she spits that "There is no justice unless there is justice for all" it comes from the very marrow in her bones.

Her relationship with Laura, her partner in the very over-burdened law centre she runs, is spiky and real. Sirine Saba is superb as Laura and provides a beautiful counterpoint to Gail's brittle honesty. Saba is also excellent as the happy Pakistani wife to be who comes to London seeking a new life only to find servitude and abuse awaiting her. Saba is exceptional in the scenes which depict the evolving relationship with her traditionalist oppressive husband (a throughly believable Scott Karim).

Photo: Helen Maybanks

Karim also doubles as Laura's sponging/devoted boyfriend/would be writer and demonstrates his versatility admirably. He finds the good side of both his characters and exploits it, all the time making the unsavoury possibilities crystal clear.

Niall Buggy is in fine fettle as the Irishman driven to despair by the bureaucracy and the changing face of the Benefits system - the pain resonates from him clearly, especially in seemingly inconsequential talk about Oyster cards. He also turns up as a struck off Doctor that Gail dates, with somewhat curious results.

Completing the cast is Nicholas Bailey, whose character is distressed by the refusal of his wife to give him access to his children. He has severe anger management issues, but is trapped in the system and trying to find a way through it. His relationship with Gail is bizarre at best and unbelievable at worst, but that is more about the writing than the performances. Bailey is very convincing as the angry man trying keep a lid on his temper in order to see his beloved offspring. He plays the man's inability to understand how his infidelity has hurt his wife extremely well.

This is not a play that will change anything. It is actually unlikely even to make people think too hard about the horrors of the present system of funding for those who need and deserve legal aid. But is features some very clever and versatile performers - which is more than can be said for every new play produced in London.

The Invisible runs at the Bush Theatre until August 15, 2015