Eris
The Bunker Theatre, London - 11 Sep - 28 Sep 2018
We’re back at The Bunker theatre for the unexpected treat that is John King’s new play Eris. It’s unexpected because I had no real point of reference from which to make any preconceived ideas about the play, having had no previous experience of the work of the author, the theatre company or the actors, but this all just added to a sense of being party to something quite special by the time the last lines of this highly enjoyable play had been delivered.
The stage itself is relatively unassuming, a stripped back but stylish set comprising of little more than white stripes painted down a black wall and onto the floor of the stage upon which four microphones are placed, marking out a square within which the bulk of the action takes place. It looked more like we were about to enjoy the recording of a radio play rather than a theatrical performance, the microphones looking fairly immobile on stands, I so I expected the action was going to be relatively static.
Nothing could be further from the truth however, and as the actors move between microphones with choreographed precision, the dialogue is itself often a dynamic linguistic dance, the words, sentences and speeches meted out between the cast in increasingly inventive ways. The play hits the ground running with the central character Seàn (completely embodied by a captivating performance from Cormac Elliott) recounting an unsatisfactory sexual experience that heralds the end of his relationship with Tim. As his relationship grinds to a halt, his sister Sinead (played by Clare McGrath) is about to announce her wedding to ‘generic background heterosexual number 12’, Steve. (The mildest of several character ‘grotesques’ we get to enjoy Charlie Ferguson inhabit) Unaware that Tim and Seàn have now split, Sinead voices her Irish Catholic families preference for not having Tim at the wedding, infuriating Seàn… even if he is now single and would be coming on his own anyway…. Or would he?
What follows is Seàn’s possibly misguided, often hilarious journey to find someone with whom he can make his own mark on the wedding. His search initially takes him online to the dating apps, and whilst that oh-so-familiar ‘new message’ alert has increasingly filled me with dread in the myriad of plays I have heard it appear in the soundtrack of, I actually really enjoyed the way the random, shambolic mania of an increasingly confused Seàn was executed during his desperate search for a date in the 'Tinder-sphere'. Not only did the approach feel fresh, but the tightness of the dialogue and the minutiae of Cormac’s performance during these more manic moments made this more of a stand out set-piece than just another predictable take on the world of online dating.
Matching this highlight was the opportunity for Charlie Ferguson to play a second ‘grotesque’, The Professor, a character who wouldn’t have looked out of place were he to turn up in Royston Vasey, and who an increasingly desperate Seàn finds himself with on a first date. Whilst director Robbie Taylor Hunt finds a wholly unique way to bring this character to life, his inventive and imaginative flair hits a new peak when Ferguson again returns to play Seàn’s Nan (with a little help from the rest of the cast), another delicious character, this time closer to a Terry Gilliam infused Monty Python creation rather than The League of Gentleman, and a scene that provided one of Seàn's more memorable declarations of the play, “I’ve just killed Nanny with my gayness!”
Whilst things could easily have spun off into an ever increasing surreal mess at this point, it is the strength of the well crafted dialogue and the delivery thereof that ultimately manages to keep the play grounded, the action playing out more like Seàn’s embellished recollection of events than the reality of the moment itself. Whilst I question wether the use of the Star Wars ‘Imperial Death March’ to represent the arrival of Seàn’s fearsome Aunt felt more gimmick than invention at this point, there was no arguing with the laughter this addition garnered from the audience.
Superbly written, inventively directed, charmingly acted and a master class in how to bring to life an otherwise sparse stage, (credit to lighting designer Catja Hamilton), ERIS delivered on all counts and was one of the best new plays we have seen this summer.
★★★★★
