In an age where hardly a day goes by without some mention of violence, bombing, and terror in the news, fear and a constant sense of anticipation has gripped the world. It is exactly this uncertainty of what our future holds that lets every member of the audience relate to Frank McGuinness’ Someone Who’ll Watch Over Me.

The play, set in a Lebanese prison cell in the late 20th century, features three hostages: Michael (Sam Smith) an English university lecturer transformed by the death of his wife; Edward (David Egan) an Irish journalist torn from his family; and Adam (Jacob Lloyd) an American military doctor removed from his fiancée.

Their nationalities strongly shape their respective characters, which allows a clash not only between characters, but also creates an internal conflict as each man begins to question their own identity. From reading the Qur’an to singing Irish folksongs and American hymns, each character’s individuality is repeatedly underlined.

Being drawn into the cell itself, one is constantly exposed to the drastic ups and downs, moments of outrage and violence followed by eerie calm, desperation followed by ecstatic ‘parties’ and extravagance of their daily lives.

Each of the three well-cast characters has been meticulously polished; involving the audience from the moment the first word is spoken. Though the set and lighting remain constant throughout the play, director Roland Singer-Kinsmith’s rendition successfully highlights the juxtaposition of light and dark; of sanity and insanity. Ironically, the audience is left to contemplate that ultimately, we may not be so different after all.

Four Stars

First-time directors Lewis Godfrey and Sofia Abasolo haven’t made life easy for themselves.

Deciding to put on Ionesco’s masterpiece is brave enough, what with all the turning into Rhinoceroses and all. But to cut it down to an hour and put it in the not-so-spacious BT – lacking the room for the orchestra pit, two storey house and twenty rhinoceros heads that the original script demands – is surely suicidal.

But all the more credit to them, because this looks to be a damn good production. The line cutting, although necessary, is unfortunate in that some gems are inevitably lost; but otherwise they have used the limitations to their advantage, experimenting playfully with what was already a pretty unorthodox play. The emphasis on physicality not only makes up for the lack of fake horns and grey skin, it’s ultimately more effective – particularly the genuinely spine-tingling finale.

One experiment had me worried, however, for the words ‘audience participation’ usually bring to mind horrifying sing-a-long performances of The Sound of Music. But fortunately here it kind of works. This is where the traverse seating – another risky choice – comes into its own, as the guy across the room whose eye contact you’ve been avoiding becomes one of a theatre full of Rhinoceroses. Still, don’t sit at the front if you don’t want your face used as a TV.

All this meant a lot was riding on the actors. Again, there’s little to fault, with a solid ensemble cast. David Ralf is very entertaining as the mouthy Botard, and mountains of praise are due to Arabella Lawson, who not only plays two men, but actually metamorphoses on stage – and does so brilliantly. Matt Monaghan as the lead man needs a little more consistency, but I’m sure he’ll get it by production week, for he showed moments of great promise and on the whole seems comfortable in his role.

Rhinoceros so happens to be a pretty profound and thought-provoking play, but don’t let that put you off. It’s not necessarily laugh-out-loud, but the production has done well to maintain the comic element which was so central to much of the Ionesco’s theatre. After all, it’s about a town full of people turning into pachyderms, and as one character says, ‘You’ve got to have a sense of humour about these things.’

Four Stars

Rhinoceros is at the BT, 2-6 Feb, 19.30

To be honest, if you haven’t heard about this show by now, you must have been living under a stone, working far too hard, or not reading Cherwell (shame on you if so). So I won’t bore you by recapping what it’s all about. Three orphaned children must go to London to live with their mysterious uncle Philip in his London toyshop, where he rules as tyrant and master, forcing them to watch his sinister puppet shows. While it might be very easy to think that, from the hype, this play might be an example of style triumphing over substance, I am happy to report that, though this play is stylish and visually stunning, it demonstrates a consistently high quality of acting, and as a production, reaches a level of polished togetherness that is to be applauded.

Bella Hammad shines as Melanie, our fifteen-year-old female protagonist, whose perilous and prematurely instigated ascent into adulthood forms the structural backbone of the piece. For an actress so new to Oxford’s scene, she has truly gripped it fervently and, judging by this performance, will become one of our most in-demand performers. She manages to capture the character’s paradoxical attributes of cautious innocence, enforced maturity and sexual curiosity, while still maintaining a great deal of humour. She spends much time alone on the stage, especially in the first act, but her great confidence and believability as an actress lends her a presence that I certainly relished. At the other end of the scale, Will Spray must be mentioned for delivering a truly terrifying performance as Uncle Philip.

The original score by Hertford second-year Laurence Osbourn is written for string quartet, which worked well, despite my previous suspicion that a show so fantastical and at times zany would need more instrumental colour. The score channels Shostakovich’s quartets quite strongly, definitely bringing out a certain sobriety and mournfulness, but also creating a sense of disquieting timelessness. However, though I very much enjoyed the fractured, relentless counterpoint of the score, I found some of the recorded sound effects unnecessary and haphazard, especially the lengthy plane noises and shaken radio sounds at the beginning. It was also a shame that the climax of the play – the uncomfortably beautiful swan scene – was let down by the choice of the Swan Lake Prelude to accompany it. It seemed a lazy choice, and I wonder whether Osbourn might have been able to come up with something more fitting, referencing the Tchaikovsky, instead of simply blasting the piece into the audience.

Choreographer Fionn Cox-Davies is largely successful in his attempts to make puppets come to life on stage, though sometimes the female puppets lacked the presence of Joel Phillimore’s towering performance. The latter’s movement was excellent the whole way through, while the other two seemed to lose poise from time to time. This doesn’t, however, detract from the fact that the physical aspects of the play are exceptionally tight (despite a few ungainly scene changes) and the very early apple-tree scene is as beautiful and fluid a piece of theatre as I have seen for a very long time.

The Magic Toyshop will always be a boy-meets-girl tale, says Theo Merz, who adapted the play from Angela Carter’s novel. We do get a very strong sense of the romance that underpins the danger, and there is a genuine warmth about the two young lovers that Merz seems to bring out well.

Throughout, I kept having to remind myself that this is a student production, so beautiful and professional was the staging and the use of lighting. The Magic Toyshop is a play whose failings are small, whose methods and ambition have been nothing short of incredible, and which deserves to do well.

Four stars

The Magic Toyshop is at the Oxford Playhouse until Saturday.

‘But, if Ye wish her gratefu prayer,
Gie her a Haggis!’

Last weekend a whole series of events took place across Oxford, celebrating the life and works of Scottish poet Robbie Burns.

Here we bring you photos of festivities at Balliol, taken by Cherwell photographer Wojtek Szymczak.

Balliol Burns Night Dinner: the piper leads the procession of the haggis to the High Table.

‘Gie her a haggis!’
‘To the haggis’ by Burns read out by Scottish Balliolite, Chris Miller.

Burns Night in Balliol: Scottish reeling in the Balliol MCR.

The bagpipes!

Procession past the Sheldonian.

Parading along Broad Street.

Got some photos that you’d like to share with the rest of Oxford?
Why not send them in to [email protected]?