II’m risking falling into a southern Californian colloquialism here, but the upcoming production of Dennis Kelly’s play Love and Money is intense. Sure, it’s success has been attributed to its prophetic treatment of the debt crisis and credit bubble that have become the miasmic tragedy which has become emblematic of our generation.
But Chris Adams’ production owes its intensity not to the play’s timely relevance but to the performance of the actors across the board. Kelly’s dialogue is direct and, more often than not, delivered directly to the audience. In the mouths of the protagonists David, played by Jeremy Neumark Jones, and Jess, played by Sarah Perry, it is impossible to escape the hard-hitting emotional intensity of the themes. The story, in brief, is a non-linear telling of David and Jess’ awe-inspiring love and their equally awe-inspiring ruin through their descent into debt, mental illness and murder.
Neumark Jones’ bleary-eyed portrayal of David is enough to provoke our sympathies but at times you wish to see him as more of a fighter, resisting despair as he becomes a victim to it. Felix Legge and Louisa Hollway provide one of play’s only humourous hiatuses, albeit darkly, with their perfect depiction of parents negotiating the finances behind burying their daughter.
The counterpoint of their dialogue is exact and, a rarity in Oxford drama, they actually seem to embody the middle-aged middle class with a well-balanced touch. Etiene Ekpo-Utip shines in as some sort of con-artist and gives bubbling energy to a scene wherein he repeatedly pushes his business card to Isabel Drury’s Debbie.
But ultimately it is Sarah Perry’s depiction of Jess that both gives this play its beating heart and ultimately keeps it from falling into a despairing portrayal of materialism, debt and the price of love. Her final monologue is delivered in an air of breathy hopefulness but it is her physicality and embodiment of Jess’ character beyond her words that makes her so utterly convincing.
This production’s only risk is that it promises to be exhausting to watch. Each scene has the actors thrown into the height of emotional intensity, with little reprieve in the textual banality that usually makes emotional moments in theatre all the more powerful. But this ensemble carries off the constant emotional high with flying colours and ultimately serves Kelly’s language to the utmost. Love and Money is a meditation on the two conflicting motivations for every young person trying to make their way in the world and deserves to be seen simply for the reason that it paints the picture of the world our generation is scrambling to find a place in. You may leave this show emotionally exhausted but unlike most Oxford student drama, you will leave having intensely felt something worth feeling.
