One thing that
never ceases to intrigue me about the tiny little Griffin
In The
Violent Outburst That Drew Me To You, presented by Siren Theatre Company with Griffin Independent, the space is
filled by Jasmine Christies’ circular curtain set which is drawn and opened as
needed, becoming a shadow-screen and a clever framing device, allowing for a
playful sense of theatricality and youthful exuberance. Old wooden school
chairs, simple items of costume and Hartley T A Kemp’s story-book lighting
complete the illusion and the show, an uninterrupted seventy minutes, feels
rather like a pop-up book, albeit not quite one for younger children.
Written by Finegan Kruckemeyer,
a prolific playwright with over seventy commissioned plays to his name, The Violent Outburst That Drew Me To You
takes us deep into the teenage mind and tries to fathom the murky depths of
anger and frustration that bubble and boil there, tries to stop the ticking
time bomb that is Connor Nicholls’ nerves. Cleverly, though, Kruckemeyer’s play
never descends into sentimentality, nor is it patronising or condescending
towards its teenage subjects, or the younger members of the audience. Like most
of Kruckemeyer’s plays, there’s a warm-heartedness here, a generosity, a desire
to help and heal, a warmth that comes through understanding and sharing. As
Lotte says halfway through Part Two, it’s not so much about feeling angry, but
being frustrated that no one listens or takes you seriously; they see you as a
child even though you feel much older inside your head, if only they would
treat you the way you wanted them to treat you. There is anger here too,
cleverly simulated through lighting and shadow puppets, and the feeling of
being angry, but it is used and focused in a way so as to make a point rather
than being destructive.
Director Kate Gaul
has assembled a strong ensemble who double (and sometimes triple) roles with
the exception of Michael Cutrupi’s Connor. There is a rambunctious energy, a
pent-up want to get away from everything that annoys him, a feeling that is
released when, in Part Two, he finds himself in the woods on the outskirts of
the city and meets Lotte, a girl even angrier than himself. The ensemble –
Emily Ayoub, Renee Heys, Natalia Ladyko and Antony Weir – are all superb, and
more than match Cutrupi’s energy and verve. You only need to look at the grins
on their faces in Ash Bee’s tightly choreographed opening (set to Daryl Wallis’
percussive and energetic music) to be able to let yourself get caught up in the
story, and what a reward it is. As Kruckemeyer’s scenes flow and merge into one
another, Gaul’s cast transform from parents to teenagers to uncles and aunts to
mechanics, bus drivers and teachers; it is this fluidity that gives the play a
slightly other quality, an almost-hallucinatory effect, which does not feel out
of place in the tumult of the teenage mind. There is a wonderful moment, right
at the start of Part Two, when Connor’s parents (Weir and Ayoub) take him to
the woods (whilst listening to a four-cassette recording of Stephen Fry’s
autobiography) before bursting into song. Wallis’ music here sits perfectly within
the surrounds of his other ‘incidental’ music and sound design, and the moment is
suffused with a wonderful surreality which only heightens Connor’s confusion
and feelings of not fitting in. When Connor meets Lotte (played by Heys, Ayoub
and Ladyko in turn), not only does he find his someone angrier than himself, but
he finds a way out, finds a mirror in which he sees himself reflected for the
first time and it gives him pause for thought. The scenes between Lotte and
Connor that form the bulk of Part Two are beautifully written and never seem
forced or un-real, and have a generosity to them which, like so much of
Kruckemeyer’s writing, is beautiful and perfectly attuned to his audience and
his story.
If there is one
minor quibble with this Violent Outburst,
it’s that the ending comes too soon; there could quite easily have been another
scene (or two) before the exuberant ending, itself a reprise of the opening
number, in which perhaps Connor’s parents come to find him again. The promise
and set up in the story Connor tells Lotte is charged with so much potential,
the possibilities of what happens next are tantalising, though perhaps that is
in fact the point of the scene – it’s the possibility of what happens next that
counts; to show it or at least a version of it would be to undermine Connor’s
story, to undermine the scenes between him and Lotte in the woods.
Kruckemeyer and Gaul ’s Violent
Outburst is a well-paced seventy minutes of exuberant, energetic and physical
theatre. While it is funny it is never gratuitous or at another’s expense, just
as it is serious without descending into sentimentality, and its warm and
generous heart is something to take notice of, embrace, and savour.
Theatre playlist: 29. Heartbreak Hill, Michael Yezerski
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