At Live Theatre, Newcastle, until March 17
IT’S rare to see anything truly original these days but Nassim Soleimanpour wrong-foots us several times over a curious hour or so which sees the Iranian playwright pull our strings from afar.
His one-man play has no director or designer and each night is performed by a different actor, who sees the script for the first time when he/she opens an envelope containing it on stage, where the only props are a table, chair, set of step-ladders and two glasses of water, into which he must pour a powder we’re told could be poison.
Intriguing? It was but I was also worried the concept might turn out to be pretentious tosh.
In fact, much of it made me laugh as the audience entered into the spirit of things with former Emmerdale actor Shaun Prendergast who, on the show’s debut night at Live, was the first brave performer to sign up to the unknown.
And when nobody knows what to expect, it becomes very much a shared experience; so much so that don’t be surprised if the script calls upon you, yes you, to help out with the story.
It’s one that has been touring the world without its author who, due to (now resolved) passport problems, was unable to leave his homeland.
But he’s very much in evidence, directly addressing the actor through his script then us, his unseen audience, provoking us to think about what kind of people we are (do we follow instructions or stand apart; are we a “red rabbit” or a “white rabbit”?) and the sort of society where theatre is policed.
And, interestingly, the actor is closely monitored to ensure he reads out every word. If he doesn’t he’s rather firmly brought back into line.
Prendergast certainly steps up to the mark, even managing a fine impersonation of an ostrich during a surreal bit involving rabbits, bears and disguised cheetahs (too complicated to explain but very funny).
Saying too much could spoil the show. If it sounds bizarre, it is in parts but it’s also surprisingly thought-provoking and refreshingly different, with the author, enjoying the freedom afforded by his play, both manipulating us and having a joke.
Prendergast adds lots of laughs himself, with ad-libs including a wonderful imaginative meander after reading a passage about suicide by helium gas (you had to be there) and using humour to take the heat out of a sudden stream of abuse in the script which is directed at one of the audience members encouraged onto the stage.
I’d be curious to see another actor’s take on it: performers with past and present associations with the theatre, including Sarah Millican, Stephen Tompkinson and Kevin Whately, will take turns with the role over coming days.
It certainly demands a lot of the actor who, finally asked to drink from one of those glasses of water, doesn’t get to enjoy the applause as the ending is, literally, taken out of his hands.
And if that’s left you more intrigued, or confused, then join the rabbit club.
Tickets available from www.live.org.uk or 0191 232 1232.
