BU21
Trafalgar Studios
11/1/16
3 Stars
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Transferring from Theatre 503, Stuart Slade’s play is a verbatim piece created around a fictional event- that of a terrorist attack on London and the experiences of half a dozen survivors. The attack is horrifying, a passenger jet, (flight number BU21), brought down by a missile, crashing into Parsons Green. At first, they are lone voices, but as the play moves forward, they begin to form a support group. The writing has an intense and effective simplicity, the communication direct with us, and the play has much to say about the construction of grief by broadcast and social media. (“I found out my mother died via Twitter.”) It also benefits by being performed by an excellent cast.
As the play makes clear, there are no heroes or happy endings, apart from those constructed in the aftermath of the attack. Isabella Laughland as Izzy begins the narrative, effectively enabling us to imagine the death of her mother as the plane’s engine smashed into her. Roxanna Lupu is compelling as Ana, horrifically burnt as she was sunbathing then covered in aviation fuel. Graham O’Mara is excellent as Graham, a hero of the disaster who sets up the support group, but is then revealed as a liar. This lie is uncovered by Alex, a selfish, hugely dislikeable character, yet truthful and brutally honest. His political incorrectness is gleefully performed by Alexander Forsyth, and he scathingly rips down the fourth wall and mocks us for paying good money to see tragedy porn, underlining the construction of theatre and perceived reality. He also points out our racist expectations in anticipating that the Muslim, Clive, a sensitive performance from Clive Keene, is one of the terrorists. Most compelling of all is Florence Roberts as Floss, in whose back garden a plane passenger crash lands into, an excellent portrayal of shock and grief, but also offering hope and recovery in her growing relationship with Clive, whose father it was who died in her garden.
If the play sounds intense and grim, it’s strength is in its blackest of black humour, making interesting points about how we all think in “media speak”, Alex, in particular bringing huge laughs in his brutal summaries of the situation. For me, this could have been explored further, the stakes could have been raised. Alex blackmails Graham over his lie, but it’s a mutual agreement that benefits them both, and the consequences within the group and wider society are never explored. And the play is held back by its Fringe origins. Although the movement is effective, house music playing and lights flashing as chairs are moved by the actors is a jaded fringe device now, and it quickly becomes irritating and repetitive. The stark set also adds little to the stage picture, in fact, close your eyes and this would work better on the radio, such is the power of the text and performances.
Until 18 February 2017
Photos: David Monteith Hodge
