This weekend I went home. This is not surprising really; the end of fourth week always rekindles memories of half-terms spent lazing around, when “fifth week blues”, “collections” and “essay crisis” were still a universe away. Whilst there I went to see a school play, and despite my bias, due to this school being my alma mater, and the main part being played by my sister, I must say that the formidable acting talent on offer from a bunch of 11 to 16 year olds in my generic northern comp far outshone anything I witnessed in Confusions.
As the name perhaps suggests, this is not a conventional five-acter. It is more like five separate plays, with intertwining stories and characters and multiple parts played by the same actors. The venue is the rather odd choice of the St. Hugh’s bar, which admittedly provides the intimacy needed for a play so focussed on the familiar discourse and the comically domestic situations portrayed, yet may struggle in attracting those not thrilled about the trek.
My advice would be, that unless they are your friends, don’t bother. Of the two scenes I was shown, there is little to shout about. A smidgeon of poignancy here, a chuckle every now and then, but otherwise dullness: overarching, joy-sucking dullness. This is the fault of the actors, who deliver lines haphazardly and lazily. In one scene, the anticipation of an affair being revealed and the comedy of lovers trying to hide their tracks dissolve in air polluted by grey monotonous dialogue; I felt I could have been watching Beckett, so hopelessly empty were the silences. And even in the merciful moments when the incessant soullessness of their speaking ceased, clumsy acting still filled the room like a bad smell. One scenario requires abrupt switches between voiced and mimed conversation, and it always made me laugh how previously docile hands and arms would suddenly spring to life, waving emphatically, as if people talking intimately in a restaurant would seriously communicate like air traffic controllers.
The sad thing is that this play by acclaimed playwright Alan Ayckbourne could have achieved so much more. The script is innovative and the direction is not at all bad, with good use of props and space. Yet, as it is, bad acting wins the day, leaving that standing ovation and rapturous school hall merely a warm and distant memory.
(Two stars)
