Theatre review
Written
by Morris Panych
Directed
by Brainne Edge
The
King's Arms, Salford
Reviewed
27th July
Review
by Brian Gorman
Rating:
4.5 stars
The
dark, claustrophobic, and (on the occasion of this summer's evening)
sweltering atmosphere of the upstairs theatre, at The King's Arms in
Salford, is perfect for this gloriously gothic and peculiar little
piece (which runs at around 75 minutes, without an interval).
Imagine, if you will, Alan Bennett and Samuel Beckett having a good
old evening in, downing the grape juice, and getting off their heads
on crack cocaine. Well, maybe that's pushing it, but I'd guess that
'Auntie & Me' is what they'd come up with. Especially if they'd
had the cheese, too.
Kemp
(Sean Mason) is a sad, pretty pathetic, and morose middle-aged
sadsack, who receives a letter from an aged aunt on her last legs,
and promptly heads off to see out her last days, and plan for the
funeral. Except, she doesn't appear that pleased to see him, and
manages to hang on, for what seems to Kemp, like an eternity.
Here we
have two actors on stage (Mason, and a suitably grumpy, and almost
mute, Siobhan Edge), but 'Auntie And Me' is essentially a one man
show. Sean Mason excells in the part of Kemp; a hybrid of Fawlty-era
John Cleese, and Allo Allo's Gorden Kaye. He's a dishevelled, somewhat effeminate, well-educated, yet hapless fellow, scarcely able to deal with his own
everyday life, nevermind having to look after a bed-ridden relative.
With barely a flicker of response from Auntie, Kemp rambles on at
length, and we eventually begin to sympathise with his sad, lonely
existence. It soon becomes apparent, though, that Kemp needs Auntie,
as much as she now depends upon him.
Photo: Shay Rowan
This
is classic British tv sit-com, reminiscent of the much-loved Steptoe
and Son, Rising Damp, and Porridge. Mis-matched characters, seemingly
unable to barely tolerate each other, yet harnessed together by fate;
with a grudging empathy and respect slowly developing. The youthful
Mason has a puppyish demeanor, but expertly portrays the aging Kemp,
and his world-weary outlook. The struggles with his 'black dog' of
depression, and aching need for love and acceptance are conveyed
beautifully. We feel for this guy, and his pain is all too obvious.
Edge's granite-faced, almost comatose Auntie, is a perfect foil; her
moments of stage business all the more effective following the long
periods of sitting in bed, listening to her reluctant carer's woes.
Director
Brainne Edge keeps a tight rein on the emotions, and allows the
characters space to develop gradually. There are no frills, and they
aren't needed, as this is a strongly-written piece which concentrates
on character and atmosphere. The amiable, yet impotent Kemp does have
his more serious moments, particularly when the inner emotions break
through, and Mason explodes in terrifying fashion.
Auntie
and Me has two perfectly-controlled performances, and works superbly
well. Old-fashioned on the surface, but with depth, pathos, and even
a little bit of Orton-esque farce. This production deserves a much
wider audience.
Tags:
Auntie and Me, Morris Panych, Sean Mason, Siobhan Edge, Brianne Edge,
King's Arms, Salford
