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ACAST helps creators launch, grow and monetize their podcasts everywhere. Acast.com Okey dokey. What do I have for you today? Well, we have three plus hours of bored wealthy Russians at the national theater. We have four former boyfriends making spaghetti carbonara together at 3 o' clock in the morning down in Clapham. We have hilarious scenes from an African ladies hair salon in Harlem, New York over at the Lyric Hammersmith. And we have a young male boarding school choir and a whole lot of emotional repression and meaning happening over at Stratford East. I am once again going to be reviewing four different plays for you based on Back to Back. Oh, it's too late in the evening for this, but we're gonna do it anyway because I have been waiting for some time now to tell you about some of these plays, but just before I do, an introduction for those of you who may be meeting me for the very first time. And to you I say, oh my God. Hey, welcome to my theatre themed YouTube channel. Or hello to you if you are listening to this on podcast platforms. My name is Mickey Jo and I'm obsessed with all things theatre. I'm a critic and a content creator here on social media and I have seen a whole bunch of plays over the last few weeks and I'm going to tell you about them right right now. And I've been doing a few more of these roundups recently because simply put, it's harder to get people online to be as interested in the critical conversation around plays as they are in major musicals. And the same goes for like the commercial West End and star led productions versus things in non commercial theatres off West End venues as some of these are. But I like having those conversations. I think it's important to have those conversations. So thank you very much to everyone who has clicked on this video or this podcast episode. And as always, if if you have seen any of these productions for yourselves, either here in London or elsewhere previously, Jar Jar's African Hair Braiding was seen on Broadway. Please let me know what you thought of them in the comments section down below. Let's have a discussion. And if you would like to hear my thoughts about other plays as well as other productions from elsewhere around the world, make sure to subscribe here on YouTube or follow me on that podcast platform. And if you want to stay up to date with all of the reviews that I share, as well as everything else that I put on the Internet over the week, which is plenty, then the easiest way to do that is to subscribe to my free weekly Substack newsletter. You get an email every Monday in your inbox. It doesn't cost you anything and you can sign up to that at the link in the description of this video. But in the meantime we ought to embark because we have four different plays to talk about in the order in which I saw them. This is probably going to take me about an hour and a half, but I will attempt to cost you no more than the next 45 minutes. Let's talk about some plays. To begin, let me tell you about Summerfolk, which I saw a couple of weeks ago now at the National Theatre. This is a Russian play by Maxim Gorky, which premiered at the very beginning of the 20th century. It feels distinctly of Chekhov and after Chekhov. It premiered in, I believe, the year of Chekhov's death, or perhaps is set in the year of Chekhov's death. There's some connection there. It is linked perhaps the most closely to the Cherry Orchard, but there are moments that feel very Uncle Vanya, very Seagull, with maybe a little bit less potency. If Chekhov wrote the Seagull, I would be tempted to call this the Pigeon. And this is not the first time that it's being seen in the uk, though it is in a new adaptation. It's even been produced at the National Theatre before, in the late 1990s. This new version has been penned by Nina and Moses Raine, and this production has been directed by the National Theatre's Deputy Artistic Director Robert Hastie, which fills the Olivier stage with an epic production of this long narrative with a very large ensemble cast, and focuses more so than anything else on the eventual emptiness of the whole thing. I'll tell you a little bit more about the plot, of which there isn't an awful lot. What we are seeing here is a handful of bored middle class Russians who have decamped to their summer residence and who are passing the time and contemplating their own misery and the pointlessness of their own existences. You're hearing already the parallels with Uncle Vanya, with the seagull, etc. The cast of characters for this play is vast, but I will do my best to hastily acquaint you with them. We focus perhaps principally on Vivara. She sort of bookends the entire thing with her dissatisfaction. Played with rising spirit by Sophie Rundle. She is married to Bassov, a lawyer in marital crisis, played by Paul Reedy, who begins to suspect that his wife has some sort of disdain for him. They are not alone in their angst. We also meet Vlas, played by Alex Lauther, who is Varvara's brother, who is in emotional crisis and believes himself to be in love with an older woman who to some extent can reciprocate this, but gets very hung up on the cougarish perceptions of it all. She is a very socially astute and empowered doctor named Maria Livovna, played by Justine Mitchell. We also meet a poet named Caleria, played by Dune McKitchen, who needs almost no encouragement whatsoever to recite her latest poetic creation, the reception to which is quite consistently lukewarm. There is Ryumin, played by Pip Carter, a man who for some years has clearly and openly been longing after Varvara. Then there is Shalimoff, a writer who Vivara once respected and admired and even longed after herself until he arrives at her home unexpectedly bold, and even more unexpectedly an ass. There are two additional couples who are experiencing challenges. For one of them, it's because of child care. For the other, it's because of the affair that she is openly having, as well as the arrival of his uncle, who is considering whether or not to extend his inheritance. And I'm both oversimplifying the intricacies of this plot and the interconnectivity of these characters, as well as accelerating through it all rapidly. Because all of this is revealed incredibly slowly. You have to lean all the way in in these introductory moments. And it made me consider what it must have been like for audiences, both British in terms of translations, and Russians originally to experience a Chekhov play for the first time. Because so much of what we talk about now, when audiences who are familiar with Chekhov go to see these revivals, when critics go to review them, is how they compare with the characters we already know. But to meet them for the very first time and to withstand all of this exposition, and in a play like this, the announcement of all of these character names and the references to them before they walk on stage, and to then try and connect that to the things that we've heard about them. When somebody arrives and we're like, oh, you're the sister in law of the brother of here, and there's tension there, and you don't like this person, and you're definitely having an affair, and you're only probably having an affair. And this man is desiring this woman, but this woman is actually desiring a second person who isn't her husband. And they're all Russian names as well. And trying to come to terms with all of this exposition can be quite a challenge. I think Robert Hastie's done a really fantastic job in allowing it to be as emotionally transparent as it is and allowing us to, by the second act, really have figured out who each of these people are and what it is that they want, or what it is that they think that they want and that they think will bring them satisfaction and fulfillment in an otherwise sort of oblique and pointless existence. And it has to be said, it is a long evening at the theater. It is also a slow evening evening at the theatre. But if you can make it through this exposition, I think there is actually some creeping reward in this. I grew quite fond of this play even as I was waiting for some sort of meaningful interior narrative to crystallize, which is what you end up getting, I think, in Chekhov, and with such a vast number of characters in this, you know, we eventually reach something. But it doesn't necessarily feel like it comes from a place of focus. It feels like more so than anything else, this landscape painting of all of these people having a picnic in the countryside. And you can move between it, let's say it takes up an entire wall. And it's sort of impossible to behold the whole thing in detail. So you have to walk right up to it and you can choose to fixate on little individual details. And that's the lens through which we see this. And that's the way that the playwright acquaints us with the goings on of these characters and these lives, is we shift between these little scenes and these little Encounters and these trysts and these denials and these arguments. And I think too much energy spent trying to figure out what it is that you're looking at broadly may be a little pointless. Better instead to let it slowly wash over you, this sense of sorrowful ennui and hopelessness conveyed to us with this sort of a morbid, desolate wit in a production which is in its own way playful and flirtatious, and which I think in terms of the visual staging, does about as much with this text as one possibly could. There's an absurd humor that finally pierces the tension of this extended introduction when a character asks, your husband is awful. When will he die? And I think by the end, it's the silliness of the whole thing that earns more of our fondness as an audience. A silliness which is there perhaps because the playwright, it, unlike Chekhov, really pushes the insincerity of this entire class of people. It is very much less in their defense and more a criticism of their entire way of life. I mean, for this to have been turn of the century Russian written, it's a very auspicious time in Russian society, with major social change set to unfold over the following decades. And that shift is articulated even within the set Design by Peter McIntosh, the set design I first glimpsed a few weeks before the production opened because I was doing a backstage tour of the National Theater as a little side note, which incidentally, I do recommend. And the whole thing is green and beige wood, as if to suggest the outdoors and trees, but also a country home at the same time, but only really the bones of one without its furnishings, without the details and those things that would make it look more idyllic and romantic. It's a tree without leaves, it's a wall without paintings. An existence rather than a. The characters we meet, by extension, are all these colorful personalities in colorless clothes, coming and going constantly via this one residence. I'm sure there are hours in which Clapham Junction Station sees slightly less traffic than this did, but eventually the action moves outdoors and this house in which we began is stripped away and the floor is pulled up to reveal a little river of sorts, a little moat running around a central raised platform. There is one section of this that is discernibly deeper than the rest, because one member of the company submerges themselves entirely in it and then eye catchingly emerges from it like they're in a Bond movie. That cast member is the always charming Brandon Grace, who was as wonderful in Cyrano at the Edinburgh Festival fringe as he continues to be in the British Airways in Flight travel safety videos. And it's a fantastic set, the likes of which you go to the National Theatre to see. But it contains further secrets even beyond these watery revelations as the back walls of the whole thing rise to reveal ultimately this true emptiness. Even as we head back to a dinner with all of these characters trying simply to get along, after a little bit of damage that they've dealt to one another, any enduring charm of their surroundings has disappeared. I want to take a moment as well to talk about the lighting design. Paul Pyan does a wonderful job in distinguishing between indoor and outdoor and this sense of summer's warmth, but also an inherent quality of despair and ongoing nothingness as well. And Rob Hasty also has this clear difference between the indoor and the exterior world. There are a couple of characters who whistle before arriving on stage and then discuss their role as servants, as poorer workingclass local people basically. And having to literally clean up after these individuals when they leave. And bleak and slow and perhaps a little prolonged as the whole thing is. There's a moment where I thought, oh, this is probably going to be the final scene. And then we start putting tables and chairs together for what ended up being at least another half an hour. I do think that there is a lot of charm in it. I think there's intrigue in these sort of pre soap opera relationships in which Hastie's production finds enough passion and enough comedy and enough bitter resentment. In each case there is, even if you want to find it, just a little connectivity between this more than a century old play and the world in which we find ourselves now as characters talk about the moral implications of even bringing children into the world. There's also much conversation about existence itself and how you explain the world to your offspring. Needless to say, if you do enjoy Chekhov, this is absolutely a must see. I thought it featured some lovely performances. I thought it was a pleasant enough way to spend a few hours, even if it lacked a little of the impact and the focus that you may find in that other Russian playwright's work. If you would like to see it for yourself. Summerfolk is running, I believe until the end of April at the National Theatre. Next up, I headed to the Omnibus Theatre in Clapham for only the second time in my life to see Slippery, a brand new play from the rising star award winning playwright and my friend Louis Emmett Stern. And what I love about Louis work is this particularly wicked wit with which he writes relationships. This being the second play of his that I've seen. But queer relationships specifically, and dialogue between these couples or former couples, which is argumentative and also romantic and filled with deeply toxic sexual tension and meaning and weight. And there's such a reality to it as well. This play in particular is incredibly naturalistic. It takes place in the middle of the night, like 3am as one character is helping another back to his flat after going to A and E with him after some kind of an accident. We come to find out he's injured his arm. We also come to find out, though it isn't delivered to us in a particularly heavy handed way in the exposition, that these two used to be a couple, they used to be boyfriends, only they haven't seen each other in the best part of a decade, which shifts the dynamic that we're looking at here. You know, it's one thing to depict recently broken up partners. That amount of space between them and the relationship that they once had is a conspicuous and deliberate one. In a talk back afterwards, Louis spoke about this fascination with a pair of characters who know each other intimately and incredibly well, but who are in another way also strangers at the same time. There are things that they have to learn about each other newly. There are details that they don't know. They have each grown and become different people, but are attempting over the course of the play, which unfolds in real time, to equate the person that they are encountering with the version of them that they once knew, that they once knew intimately. And so it's a unique and a loaded dynamic between these two characters. And we initially perhaps see them in the way that they choose to see each other, particularly the character of Kyle, played by Perry Williams, and the way that he looks at his ex boyfriend, Jude, played by John McCrae. Jude is the one who is injured. And when he is off stage, Kyle looks through some of his things. He finds drugs in a vase in this very stylish flat with a functional on stage kitchen. There's pasta to be cooked. We'll get to it, don't worry. And he assumes that Jude is still involved in the Chemsex party culture that was a fixture of their relationship together. Particularly because the circumstances of their breakup, as I recall, is that Kyle left abruptly first in order to get clean and get away from all of that. So he has very little insight into Jude's ongoing relationship with that scene, which it emerges, amounts to one brief foray back into that world, only to find out that it had really changed in the years since he had participated in it. Prompted Specifically by grief, as Jude's more recent partner has recently died. And I filmed an interview with John, as well as with Louis, who spoke about various queer plays that talk about Chemsex. And I think there was the capacity here to have even more of a conversation around that because it is an intriguing and a topical subject. And one of the most interesting commentaries that forms on it. Here is a shifting culture in that world and the idea that people at Chemsex parties now wear socks in order to keep their stashes upon their person because there isn't trust that they wouldn't be stolen if they were left with their belongings and their discarded clothes. Which does feel sort of tantamount to the anecdote of, like, back when I was younger, everyone on the street would leave their doors unlocked. And I wanted a little bit more of that conversation. But in general, I enjoyed these characters in this dialogue and this thorny relationship so much that I wanted the scope of the whole thing to be broader. And that's not what this play is. This play deliberately takes place over one evening in real time. It's a single act. One of them has to go. There is a ticking clock on the whole thing. They haven't seen each other in such a long time. It is such a singular encounter for these two who will presumably never see each other again. They have no further reason to. And they eventually gain from each other and from this encounter enough satisfaction or perhaps just enough perspective to no longer need to get in touch with each other. There is some minimal closure that they each find as they discuss what their lives have become, but also sort of challenge each other. There's an interesting power dynamic at play here where sexual advances are made and rejected and then perhaps reciprocated. And it's this somersaulting idea of who is going to put themselves out there and who is going to be a little bit more vulnerable with their desires and their needs. It begins with this very knowing pushing of each other's buttons and the segueing of conversation into slightly more dangerous territory before we arrive at a lot of gay coded language of flirtation and suggestion. Eventually, the two of them take turns over the play, feeling small and rejected by the other as they seek the validation they were each able to gain from the other. And this sort of comes into the play's conversation with grief as well. I think one of the most striking things to me about it is this loss of the person to whom you were once so close and what they were able to be for you. And the idea that they will continue to exist, but are now only able to be that for somebody else. This person. Person who you can call in your phone and they can come and help you at A E and they can take you home at 3 o' clock in the morning. But it doesn't mean that you're going to be able to rebuild the connection and the meaning that you once had. Everyone is sort of forever changed. There is, to that end, a really beautiful sort of a small monologue in which Kyle talks about wondering whether he's been creating memories and banking them with the possibility that they may rekindle this relationship. He talks about an archive of hills and benches that he may later bring Jude back to. And I think a lot of the meaning here in the perspective on relationships does feel quite unique to gay men. It does feel like that particular individual kind of longing and self doubt. Now I mentioned we come back to this. There is an on stage functional kitchen in which they collaboratively prepare a spaghetti carbonara. You don't tend to see a lot of cooking happening in real time on stage, but it is a feature of this play, albeit a fairly incidental one. I want to talk about the performances of John McCrae and Perry Williams. John is effortlessly funny and just a little bit devious. And he has this really playful quality to his performance. And he's sharp and he's indignant. And Perry, by contrast, is thoughtful and measured and discernibly anxious. What they absolutely get so perfectly right is the vibe between two people who are completely comfortable around each other, but also deliberately reluctant. And the awkwardness that arises when they discuss each other's subsequent partners when they reveal unexpected details about their current life, some of which elicit an entire gasp from the audience. And like I said, said, loved living in the world of this dialogue. And I truly bought into this relationship and these characters. It all felt real and honest and painful and complicated. All of those good things. I just wanted it to be more, I think, and bigger. I'm ready for brilliant Louis Emmett Stern to write a play with slightly more scope. Because this to me felt like it could be episode four of a five or six episode series. Like a sort of a queer fleabag one which would get all of these amazing reviews and conversation. Because in contrast to the episodes that jump between different locations, this would be an extended one simply in the one place, simply between these two characters as a moment of contrast to really hone in on where they are, but without some sort of a device to flashback to earlier parts of the relationship, which I appreciate this play doesn't necessarily merit, and without some larger perspective on it, without any additional characters, it does feel a little slight. You kind of walk away from this with perhaps recognition, with perhaps feelings about your own relationships and individuals who may have been in your life. But short of grabbing a fistful of the onstage carbonara myself and eating it on the way out of the theater, I kind of felt lacking for something a little more substantial here. But I love the writing, the dialogue's delicious. I enjoyed this compelling production from director Matthew Iliff, and if you would like to see it for yourselves, you can catch it until the 11th of April at the Omnibus
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The drink clapham. Next up, it's time for one of my most anticipated plays of the last few weeks. I got so close to seeing this on Broadway, but I didn't at the last moment. Finally, I have the chance to enjoy it on stage. This is Joss Limbio's play Jar Jar's African Hair Braiding, receiving its UK premiere at the Lyric Hammersley Smith in a production directed by Monique Tuko. But let me tell you, the hype was deserved for Jar Jar's African Hair Braiding. I loved this talk about characters and dialogue that you just want to live with for hours at an end. When you're sad that a play is winding down and you can feel the end of it coming and you wish that it would just go on and that this could be a 10 part sitcom comedy series, then we could have more time with all of these characters and we could see what their Next day looks like and the day after the that you know that this is great writing. This was above all else, absolutely hilarious. And it depicts a bunch of different ladies working in a hair braiding salon, an African owned hair braiding salon. This is in Harlem. They are all immigrants to the United States from different African nations. And I like that it represents different diaspora. And we get to hear about life back in Sierra Leone and we get, get a little Nigerian culture and we get all of these different vibrant, vivid, instantly recognizable, huge personalities walking into this salon. So much of the comedy between these characters is unspoken because we get to know them and almost immediately, just by body language, just by the very specific way in which they are attired, the way in which they arrive and announce themselves and then immediately engage, engage with each other. You find out where the beef is. You find out who the true friends are. You find out who is having a little bit of a frustration. You find out who is tiptoeing around somebody else. And so thereafter, we only need a pause and a facial expression because we're anticipating the punchline that is to come in so many of the circumstances that arise. We already know it's going to be funny because we can see the problems coming when you have one stylist, one hairdresser, who believes that another who has more recently arrived at the salon is stealing all of her clients. When we then see another example of this coming, it's so, so funny. And we're able to anticipate those reactions and in doing so, feel like we know these characters well, feel like this is the 50th episode of a TV series that we've been watching for years. And it has that kind of a sitcom comedy tone, but also, though it gains a little bit of weight in the undercurrent as well. As we begin to talk more and more about immigration issues, obviously hugely topical in the current United States, there is a brief, knowing nod to the presidency, which is everything that it needs to be and no more. The immigration storyline actually amounted to more than I was expecting it to by the end, because I thought this was just a great enough comedy plan with enough depth afforded to it by that particular context. The fact that as each of these ladies is braiding the hair of a different customer, we find out a little bit more about their lives, about their challenges, most of them financial, most of them as a result of immigration and debilitating immigration policies and roadblocks for African immigrants specifically. And it's very deliberately and steadily and introduced sort of as it would be over the course of a hair appointment as a client, would we meet these characters sort of warmly and in good spirits, even with a little bit of a historic grudge that we discover between a couple of them, even as they are taking phone calls or telling each other about things that are happening outside and real world anxieties that they have. The young woman who opens the store at the beginning, who pulls up the grate before the whole thing revolves around on stage to take us inside, is the daughter of Jar Jar, the owner who is absent for most of the play because it's her wedding day. She's getting married to a white man. But her daughter, meanwhile, still doesn't have citizenship and doesn't know how to tell her mother that she doesn't want to go into the lucrative career that she has in mind for her Very much child of an immigrant, second generation immigrant problems. But before we get to the real depth of all that and these introductory getting to know each other moments, they shuffle clothes clients between each other when they represent more work than they want to take on. There's an initial customer who comes in at the beginning of the day and wants these very long micro braids. And one of them immediately realizes how much work this is going to represent and starts unceremoniously shuffling her out of her chair and towards another stylist named Miriam. True enough, that customer is in the chair all day and throughout the events of the play, while the other customers are played by a couple of actors who multi role as various other colorful personalities who explode into the shop. But as they braid the hair and chat to the customers about their shared life experiences and their journeys, we also get to know them a little better. The first sort of beautiful opening moment of this is when Miriam, as she is doing these long micro braids, tells us about this very romantic story of her life back in Sierra Leone before moving away from her young daughter to try and make some money for her. I should also point out while all of this is happening, there is a transformation of the wigs on stage. The wigs, hair and makeup for this production have been designed by Cynthia de la Rosa. The wigs in the Broadway production by Nakia Mathis I know were hugely celebrated and did a lot of magic with magnets. And the way that this production is staged by Monique Tuco, there is occasionally a use of a full set revolution during moments of of transition. Occasionally it's more of a sort of a hidden wig change. From what I could tell, not all of the wig reveals and transformations happen entirely in plain Sight like amazing wig magic, but it's very impressive nonetheless. And the hair results that emerge speak for themselves. I want to start talking about these performances. Suazamba plays Marie, who it feels like is going to be a more prominent protagonist at the beginning, but it really, really expands to be an ensemble piece between all of these different women, which I think is important. There's a richness to all of these different stories, but she represents a very specific perspective, one of a character who has lived in New York for almost the entirety of her life, having left, I think it was Senegal when she was a very young child, one who has a strained relationship with her mother, Jar Jar, who emerges fatefully like Chekhov's gun very late on in in the play and who doesn't necessarily deliver quite as much in the narrative as you may be expecting. With everything that has been said about her, we're anticipating, I think, a little more of a revelation given that up to this point, every time there has been tension between characters, it's come to a head. Regardless, she's played very well, characterized very clearly by Zayn Ab? Ja with leadership and authority. Jadisola Udanju plays Miriam. Bola Akeju plays Ndidi, two stylists with very different personalities. Miriam is from Sierra Leone and she may seem a little more conservative, a little more quiet, a little shy even. But when she eventually reveals the details of her life to the client whose hair she spends all day working on, selfless as she may be and kind hearted as she clearly is, we find out that Miriam has a little more to her. She's also very, very funny, as is everybody. They're all hilarious indeed. Meanwhile is working at a temporary chair after the salon where she previously braided hair has burned down. And she has this clear don't mess with me attitude and no reservations about speaking her mind. At one point, when she talks about previous success in Nigeria as a musician and explains that's why she listens to music so often and is told by somebody else, I thought it was just because she wanted to block us out. She replies that that sometimes is also the case. She has a handful of combative encounters during the play, but also one brilliant moment when she emulates her favourite soap opera scene that is playing on a screen in the corner of the set and reenacts it dramatically for the salon to hilarious effect. Some more characters to tell you about. Beveri Bakilwa plays Aminata and Dolapo Oni plays Bee. Bee is this sort of regal presence who is very forthcoming with her her opinions, who believes that Jar Jar stole the entire idea for the salon from her in the first place, and who will carry a grudge like it's a very expensive purse. While Aminata begins as an ally to her, but eventually ends up on her bad side and has her own relationship conflict which needs to be resolved. But the whole thing graduates to dizzying new comedic heights of ridiculousness thanks to to the customers and members of the community who walk into this salon who are played by four different actors between them covering about 13 or 14 roles. First of all, you have Demi Ledipo, who plays every single male character. He plays men who come in off the street selling socks to the clientele. He plays men who come in off the street selling jewelry and very sweetly chatting up one of the salon staff. He's trying to win the favour of of indeedee. He arrives later as Aminata's cheating boyfriend and it gets such a huge reaction from the audience, equal parts laughter and booing at the various red flags on display, that he actually shushes us at one point, like utter breaking of the fourth wall in a play that otherwise doesn't particularly engage with that green. Peter plays Jennifer, the customer who was in the chair the entire day. But Renee Bailey and Danny Mosley, between them, play the other six customers who complete the day of braiding. And Renee in particular. Vivid takes on a new definition when I talk about the way in which she arrives into the salon as each of these different characters truly bursting through the doors. She plays one who was so immediately argumentative, so instantly out of pocket. She plays another who is this power suit wearing business girl boss who becomes vocally fascinated by the drama happening inside the salon, as indeed are all of the rest of us. So, you know, no judgment. I think there is something in all of these women serving a community in a way, like they're all trying to make as much money as they can to go on living in a very expensive part of the world that they have gone to great lengths to travel to. And one where, you know, it's hard, hard in this current climate. It's harder than ever for them to be there. They are among the most disenfranchised people in society anyway, as black women. But in addition to that, there's this sort of a dual role here because yes, they are at work in order to try and sustain themselves, but also there is community found in a hair braiding shop. The Barbershop Chronicles, another play, talks about something similar for men. And this is kind of the female equivalent of that. And the role that black women play in their own families, in their own communities. And the very action of hair braiding is protective. Right. But it's also empowering. It's also women having choice about the way that they're going to be seen in the world and celebrating the richness and history of, of their own culture. There's a lot of that in there as well, but it's subtle and it's there to be recognized by knowing members of the audience. And if you don't, then the whole thing is simply brilliantly hilarious. I haven't laughed like this in weeks. This is one of the best theatrical experiences I've had because it was so completely joyous. Please go see this play. If there's any kind of cultural connection to you, then you're going to love it even more than I have did. But even if this is nothing to do with you whatsoever and your story and your family and your hair and where you come from, I promise you that it is such a delight, it's a complete hoot. Cannot recommend it enough. You have until the 25th of April to go and catch this one at the Lyric Hammersmith. I promise you it's worth.
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From Geico Subconscious News, I'm Tammy. Racing thoughts broadcasting from your brain. You think you live in a pretty safe place, but you just heard about a break in four miles away, which isn't close, but it is isn't far either. You know Art Palpitations is on the scene.
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I sure am, Tammy. And I don't even know why I drove out here because as you know, you got customized renters insurance through Geico, so your stuff is covered.
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Oh, well, that's great. Any sign of crime there, Art?
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Just some light littering, Tammy, but like they say, a little litter can lead
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to a lot wise words. It feels good to worry less.
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Finally then, the play, which I just got back from seeing this very evening. Choir Boy at Stratford East. This production of the play By Terrell Alvin McCraney is directed by Nancy Medina and has transferred from the Bristol Old Vic where it was first produced. It's the rare Play alongside for black Boys as another example by Ryan Kelly Cameron that focuses on a group of different young black men talking about identity and vulnerability and legacy and expectation and. And the specificity of issues that affect them as black young men in conversation with each other. That's not something that we get to see an awful lot on stage. This is a coming of age story with some turbulent themes. It takes place at an all boys boarding school in a black community in the United States where these five are all members of the choir. It's already a prestigious school with high expectations. And to be a part of the choir is sort of the biggest privilege, the biggest honor that is available. Within that there's a further hierarchy. Who gets to lead the choir, who gets to sing the solo at the commencement, at the graduation. All of this is very important, but there are other things going on that are going to get in the way of all of that. Because the protagonist of the play, the titular choir boy, if you like, though I sort of think this refers to all of them in the way that the narrative expands, is Faris, a young man whose characteristics and behavior have identified him to his peers as gay in a school where that isn't particularly acceptable, in a culture where that isn't expected of him. And what I think is so interesting is knowing that that is the premise of this play, it sort of sidesteps your expectations about where that might go next and how this character character may arrive within the narrative because it still talks about shame, shame inflicted on that kind of a character by others, by the community around him, by students around him. And this sense of shame being a thing that is kind of enforced and that he is reminded of in spite of the height at which he would choose to hold his head. What's fascinating is that unique, like in so many other versions of this narrative that we've seen, he isn't a shy character and he isn't necessarily a closeted character. He isn't entirely open and forthcoming about his sexuality and his identity. But he also isn't altogether hiding from it either. It's more so that he is a little evasive in conversation, but more committed to the possibility of him getting to sing the commencement solo for the second year in in a row. That feels more important to him than any other questions about his identity. There's also a frustration because he refers to being gay as something one would have to actively participate in and he hasn't necessarily had the opportunity, as he says. So there's a very memorable line where he says, I'm sick of people calling me something that I ain't doing. But rather than being this sorrowful character, he is boisterous and he is. Is ambitious and he is a little calculating. And he rejects this idea of shame until it's no longer possible for him to do so. It's also a really ambitious narrative that finds for each of these five young men a meaningful backstory and depth and an arc. But also, there are so many other components to this play as well, each of which could be their own story. They have have this sort of a nondescript cultural class into which they are enrolled by their very determined headmaster, which is taught by a new member of the faculty who is a white guy. And there are a couple of uncomfortable moments of cultural collision. And he takes issue with some of the turns of phrase that they use with each other. A couple of terms of endearment or deliberate slurs as they may be hurled. And that sort of history. Boys slash dead poet society setup could be a play entirely all of its own. He takes over the running of the choir as well and gives them a task to all go and learn a song from their parents childhood and then bring it back and perform it for each other, which is this challenge of vulnerability and thoughtfulness. And from that some beautiful performances arise. Gorgeous, gorgeous sung performances throughout this play that I'll tell you a little bit more about. But that could be be its own story entirely. It isn't all that neat in the end because there are other things we have to explore. We have to go back to the gay storyline of it all. We have to go back to this character and the expectations of him. We have to go back to this guy over here and what his family expects of him. The choir rehearsals could be a play entirely of their own because we spend a little time away from them and you start to think, oh, we haven't had like another choir rehearsal moment in a little while. At the beginning, you think that that's. That's what this play is going to be. You think it's going to be about this main conflict between Faris and this other student who resents Faris's lifestyle and that he behaves as openly as he does. And there's a lot of other stuff going on for him. And there is grief because of the death of his mother. And they have a very different perspective that they debate at one point about these songs and about spirituals and their history. Farris's thesis here is that they existed as liberation for enslaved people because emotionally they offered liberation because they offered empowerment because they afforded them their own kind of freedom. As opposed to the school of thought to which Bobby, this other student, subscribes, that they literally offered coded instructions about how to escape and evade enslavement. And part of that, while Faris is explaining that these are soul strengthening tools for freedom and that singing the melodies their way is its own act of resistance, is all tied up in Bobby's just unrelenting disdain for whatever it is that Faris was ever going to say. But it's also indicative of a difference in perspective that speaks to the massive personality clash between the two of them. That particular debate about spirituals goes back around again like a carousel two or three more times, times than it needs to. That entire scene is a little longer than it probably has any right to be. But again, that could be the entire play because that is the principal relationship we're first introduced to before. We kind of take a side step and we move over here and then we come back in this direction. And I think there's so much to say. Just like all of these young men are struggling and. And eventually snapping under the pressure of all of this expectation and this history and family legacy and multiple generations and cultural identity and everything that they aren't meant to be and everything that they are expected to be. I think this play, as one of the rare few to get to engage with these particular characters, is also almost buckling, but not quite under the weight of the possibility of the things that could. Could get talked about. We could talk about this part of the young black male experience. We could talk about this aspect of it. There's so much to do with sexuality and religion that it doesn't even have time to get into. There are parental relationships that can only really get nodded to. And this variety of focus strengthens the depth of the entire thing. But it feels like we need way more time or to just kind of pick a narrative lane. I do want to talk about these musical moments. Femi Temuo was the arranger and musical director. And they begin by singing in unison in a lower vocal register before ascending to a higher octave and then diverting into harmony. So many of the choral harmonies throughout this are moving through dissonance and closeness. The entire idea of them singing together, initially in unison especially, and moving through coordinated actions and choreography in lockstep step, is so in contrast to the way that they're going to behave with increasing tension and argument for the remainder of the play. But these spiritual songs that they sing, which have generations of meaning to the black Community, having begun as work songs, and this very idea of coming together and brotherhood are a force in and of themselves to try and hold these characters together. Now we have to talk about the young men in this cast as well, because to begin, begin with, you're gonna look at this and think, oh, that one has a sensational voice and that one's giving an incredible acting performance. And then slowly they take turns to have these beautiful moments of revelation and growth as we see them sort of painstakingly coming to terms with the young men that they want to be and the choices that they want to make in a challenging world. World. Each of them has their own moment of beautiful song. For Michael Holmes, Lindsay, who we've seen in a great many musicals as David, this is a moment of charming vulnerability as he rehearses his mother's favorite song before anyone else has arrived to the choir room. For Khaled Daly as Junior, this is a moment of real growth and maturity after witnessing something that sort of shifts him from the playful joker that he has been thus far, from the comic character that we first met him as. Tariq Jarrett plays our protagonist Faris with the most gorgeous, layered performance. So much nuance to the delivery here, particularly heading into the second act when he gets to reveal more about his backstory when this sort of guard that he has has can eventually descend and he can be a little bit more truthful about some of the pain that he has been carrying. Rabiconde plays Bobby, who we quickly recognize as far as bully. And even just watching him in reaction to Faris and trying to figure out where his anger is coming from, how much of it is rooted in grief, a grief that can be stirred up very quickly whenever anyone either deliberately or accidentally mentions. Mentions his mother. And how much of it is rooted in his understanding of cultural significance and history and legacy and some of the prejudices that he has around that when it comes to things like class and masculinity. It's a really interesting character. It's an important character. I think he does really great work with it. And the slow burn surprise for me in this cast was Freddie McBruce as AJ who has some lovely dialogue moments with Faris when the two of them are. Are back in their dormitory room together, but by the end has the most gorgeous arc in this play and plays it with such sensitivity and passion. It's a lovely performance, all five of them together. It's not straightforward. It's not as clear cut as who has an allegiance to who else, that they are never going to break. No one is an archetype. Nobody is two dimensional or a cartoon. These are all real young people navigating an increasingly complex situation. And when you add in the teachers who have their own reservations and personal reactions to the conflicts that they are managing, when you add in the music, the whole thing gains an additional layer of depth and profound new meaning. Not to mention how effortlessly and instantly the group musical performances bring us right back to to that thing that we want them to find and that place of brotherhood and connectivity and togetherness. You only have until 25th April to catch choir Boy at Stratford East. Go and check this out. It's a brilliant piece of writing and gorgeous, gorgeous performances. Which finally and almost two hours later for me, hopefully not for you, brings me to the end of the of these four play reviews. Thank you so much for listening to my thoughts. If you have had the chance to see any of these either here in the UK or elsewhere, I'm getting attacked by this program. Please let me know what you thought in the comments section down below. And if you would like to hear more of my reviews, that is, if I ever find the strength to do any again after this epic, then stay tuned. Make sure you're subscribed here on YouTube or following me on podcast platforms. All jokes aside, this is actually a huge week for Londoner openings, so there will be more reviews possibly every single day for the next few days. In the meantime, thank you for listening to these and as always, I hope that everyone is staying safe and that you have a stagey day for 10 more seconds. I'm Mickey Jo Theatre. Oh my God. Hey, thanks for watching. Have a stagey day. Subscribe Big jobs don't need 10 different suppliers. It's time for one partner for every size fin, finish and bulk order delivered on your schedule. The Home Depot Pro. It's about time. Acast powers the world's best podcasts. Here's a show that we recommend.
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The Top New Plays to See in London? | Reviews of Choir Boy, Slippery, Summerfolk, and Jaja's African Hair Braiding
In this episode, Mickey-Jo (MickeyJoTheatre) dives into four of the most exciting new plays lighting up London’s stages: Summerfolk, Slippery, Jaja’s African Hair Braiding, and Choir Boy. As ever, he approaches these reviews with warmth, humor, and a passion for nuanced theatre criticism, making compelling arguments for why critical conversations about plays—especially outside of blockbuster musicals and the commercial West End—matter so much to the current theatre landscape.
[08:45 – 23:50]
Background & Adaptation:
Plot & Characters:
Direction & Design:
Themes & Tone:
Final Thoughts:
[23:51 – 24:48] (ads/in-between) | [24:48 – 37:30]
Writer & Style:
Plot Overview:
Themes & Performances:
Critique:
Final Thoughts:
[38:00 – 52:14]
Play & Setting:
Tone & Atmosphere:
Ensemble & Multi-Roling:
Deeper Themes:
Production Elements:
Final Thoughts:
[52:14 – 1:09:05 (recap closes around 1:08:45)]
Background:
Premise & Characters:
Narrative Layers:
Performance & Music:
Themes:
Final Thoughts:
(Podcast hosted by MickeyJoTheatre. All events and quotes from April 1, 2026 episode.)