Kill Me Now

Three River Theatre’s spontaneous decision a few months ago to stage a mini one act play fest was very much a Plan B situation, but once the theme was decided upon (that being Death) it was very much full steam ahead bundling this eclectic collection of plays together in record time. While there was a theme, the content, style and structure of the plays maintained very clear separateness. 

Say what you will about farces, there’s something about their frenzied nature that hypes people up. The opening play - The New Mrs Jones was the farce in question. Confession: I wasn’t in love with this off-beat script.  The inclusion of some randomly ribald one-liners felt awkwardly incongruous. 

Then there was the plot: a psychotically murderous Mum (played with maniacal glee by Matt Taylor in drag) is proving to be a handful on the night she meets her long-suffering son’s new girlfriend. It was as farcical as it gets, but I have to hand it to this energetic ensemble cast, whose comedic timing and physical comedy definitely elevated the piece beyond the sum of its written parts. 

Jackson Kelder set the frantic tone from his first line as The beleaguered son. Ashley Eyles nailed the split-personality required of The Girlfriend, and Leigh Oswin’s friendly neighbour (and Mrs Jones’ first victim) was laudable - not just for his innocent delivery, but also for his Oscar-worthy “unconsciousness”.   

I’ll take a dodgy script in the hands of capable performers over a great-script-performed-badly, any day of the week. One particular ‘flipping manoeuvre’ (of the aforementioned unconscious body) was diabolically clever. The cast’s level of commitment spoke volumes for their faith in director, Jesse Apted. 

Second on the bill - The Actor’s Nightmare, was all too relatable. 

Julius Godman plays George, a terrified man experiencing every actor’s quintessential fever dream: he’s found himself on stage, about to appear in several concurrent plays (each of which he has zero memory of ever rehearsing) and with a bunch of actors he’s never met. 

The fact that the plays constantly switch (from Noël Coward, to Shakespeare, to Beckett, et al) required the utmost focus of the supporting ensemble of four to continually come and go throughout; while executing multiple characterisations, in keeping with the different play genres. 

Coco Ford, Rose Zanchetta, Mitch Trott and Isaac Leslie all tackled their scene stealing moments with aplomb.  Meanwhile Julius’ consistent, nuanced and reactive reflection of the ever-deepening anxiety of a person ‘on the brink’ was an absolute delight. Great script, very well executed. 

Last cab off the rank: Death of the Doorstep Kiss. 

The direction of the first two plays was of a high calibre, but the direction of this four-characters-per-actor-four-hander was next level. Ashley Eyles, take a bow. 

With the opening two plays each being so different in tone, the opening night audience was primed for the sudden, sideways tip into absurdism.  This plot: Eight different ‘first date, doorstep kiss goodnight’ scenarios, in which Rhys Pitstock and Charlotte Wickham were given a rare opportunity to showcase their experience and versatility - by portraying four of the reddest of red flags anyone would have the misfortune to meet, let alone date.

Playing a variety of ‘normal’ characters (tasked with dodging the above ‘bullets’) were relative-newcomers, Amaris Osborne and Jordan Sutcliffe, and both endearingly held their own. 

Huge props to the stage designers/artists/painters, builders. The simple set, consisting of reversible flats separated by a couple of doors, did the trick. This also enabled a semi-transparent window for the audience to get a sneak peek at Mrs Jones’ gruesome mayhem in silhouette; while some judicious use of curtains did the job for Nightmare and a lovely city apartment building facade was created for Kiss. 

All in all, this was a super fun night at the theatre, not just for the great performances but also for the audience’s unabashed vocal participation. We’re not just talking big laughs, but also big groans, big “Ooohs” and even bigger sympathetic “awwww” moments. It was a vibe.

In this very dark political climate, and in the middle of winter, this staging of a few ridiculous comedies (in lieu of other ideas) proved to be just what the psychiatrist ordered.

Rose Cooper

Photographer: Luca Schild