#17. Guardians

Guardians by Peter Morris

Premiere: Pleasance Cavern, Edinburgh Fringe (August 2005)

Published by Oberon Modern Plays

Peter Morris' Guardians was another recommendation that particularly interested me as I enjoyed The Age of Consent, another of Morris' plays. Guardians won a Fringe First award in 2005, before transferring to London and New York. 

Guardians is storytelling at its purest and simplest and yet it is a deeply complex piece. Morris interweaves two vibrant monologues from characters that on first glance couldn't seem more disparate but, as the play proves, are intricately connected even though they don't know it. 'English Boy' is a blood-thirsty Fleet Street hack of a journalist, violently ambitious, armed with an acerbic wit and all the confidence of someone born of the Oxbridge elite. 'American Girl' is a plain woman from the rural poverty of West Virginia, dressed in the uniform of an American military prisoner.

Morris' characters articulate, ultimately, that everything is either fucking or getting fucked. For them, everything can be reduced down to this primal terminology.

It is an intricate character study of both, exploring how people are products of their upbringings and surroundings. Linking the two is the snapshots from Abu Ghraib, depicting atrocities committed in Iraq 'in the name of freedom'. Similar photos emerge in the tabloids of British soldiers abusing an Iraqi prisoner, which turn out to be fakes. Somewhere beneath the spin and the lies and the official secrets lies some kind of truth. It is not an apology, but a reflection on the cause.

Katherine Moennig as the American Girl in
New York's Culture Project production

The Abu Ghraib scandal was deeply disturbing and further fueled public anger against a disastrous war started under false pretences. This play is an uncompromising response, enabling some understanding of a seemingly incomprehensible series of events. It is scathing of the systems and people that are 'behind the camera', puppeteering events from a safe distance, preferring to get other people's hands dirty than their own. Morris particularly has in his sights Tony Blair and his supporters, and George Bush. He holds them, and the systems they represent and cultures they foster, responsible for what happened at Abu Ghraib and in conflict zones across the world throughout decades of warfare.

Morris' characters articulate, ultimately, that everything is either fucking or getting fucked. For them, everything can be reduced down to this fundamental, primal terminology. For the American soldier caught up in the scandal and used as a scapegoat, she has been getting fucked physically and metaphorically by those in authority for her whole life. For the English journalist, he'd rather be fucking than being fucked, and screw those caught in the crosshairs. This is these people's understanding of power, control and manipulation, and the misuse of it. The argument seems more fully formed in the case of the naive girl soldier, and her justification seems to stand closer inspection than that of the journalist. Perhaps this is down to the fact that she is based quite closely on the true to life Private Lynndie England, pictured in the photos abusing Iraqi soldiers, whereas the English Boy is more of an invention.

It is a convincing, well-argued perspective that is scathing of Western political powers in all the right ways, without demonising the characters for what they do. The monologues are appropriately conversational and play with the contradictory urges of confessional versus self-awareness. It is at times shocking and at times surprisingly tender. Morris has found a fresh, perceptive angle to the discussion surrounding the Iraq war; unsurprisingly, it still feels urgent and timely and could be about any conflict currently being fought by western powers. 

That said, something about it feels unfinished; it comes to a very abrupt end in mid-flight. Of course, it was written for an Edinburgh Fringe slot and the time restrictions that entails, but it feels like Morris has much more left to say. This is testament, I suppose, to how gripping his characters and their stories are that you feel as though they could easily talk for twice as long. At the same time, there is strength in how succinct it is. It is not easy stuff necessarily to digest, and Morris chooses to focus on the humanity within the story and suggests the wide reaching political resonance.

Perhaps, then, Morris' Guardians is a delectable, well-crafted starter rather than a three-course meal; it certainly leaves you wanting more. This little firecracker of a play is sure to spark debate.

#16. The Beaux' Stratagem

Susannah Fielding as Mrs Sullen
Photo by Manuel Harlan

The Beaux' Stratagem by George Farquhar
Premiere: Theatre Royal, Haymarket (now Her Majesty's - 8 March 1707)
Currently playing at the National Theatre.

George Farquhar's final play, written in the final days preceding his death, is a joyous romp by one of the great writers of the Restoration. It is currently playing at the Olivier in a strong revival directed by Simon Godwin, and led by Susannah Fielding and Samuel Barnett.

The Beaux', Mr Aimwell and Mr Archer, have lost their fortunes in the bristling city life of London, and hounded by their debts they have fled to Lichfield. Here they hatch their Stratagem; to pose as master and servant and find the richest lady possible in order to marry her for her money. Brilliantly, Aimwell and Archer meet their match in the women they set their sights on, Mrs Sullen and Dorinda. The Beaux' stratagem gets knocked off course when they end up truly in love with the women, one of whom is unhappily married to a drunk, and also manage to get mixed up with a crooked landlord and his highwayman pals, a stream of ambitious servants and a rather confused priest. Joyously, despite all of the chaos and confusion, love seems sure to win out in the end.

The difficulty in reviving this play is to rediscover the sense of shock that audiences of the time must have felt at the notion that a woman could have authority of her own.

It is a wordy, twisting plot that struggles to accelerate in the first act, but in the second act flies. Susannah Fielding as Mrs Sullen is reminiscent of Emmeline Pankhurst, although several hundred years her senior, in her rallying of the audience for support in her quest to have command of her own life. Fielding, quite rightly, has complete command of the audience, effortlessly whipping them up in her several soliloquies to the point where they cheer and applaud her sentiments. Samuel Barnett gives a fantastic performance as Aimwell, marrying faultless comedic timing with sincere hart and undying energy, paired with a light-footed Geoffrey Streatfield as Archer. Pearce Quigley's straight-faced performance is hilariously droll as the scene-stealing Scrub, the Sullen's overworked, under-appreciated servant, while Pippa Bennett-Warner holds her own as the charmingly youthful Dorinda.

Geoffrey Streatfield (Archer) & Samuel Barnett (Aimwell)
Photo by Manuel Harlan

Godwin makes impressive use of the playing space across Lizzie Clachan's three storey set, even if it is only using a fraction of the Olivier's huge stage. He finds the joy in the busy intimacy of the close downstage playing area, and relishes the opportunities to allow the cast to wink knowingly to the audience. Clachan's design is colourful and striking, and the transitions between scruffy inn and country manor as performed unaided by the cast are shrewd in their simplicity. The musical numbers, accompanied by conveniently conjured musicians, are a delight, and there is a fantastic song and dance number to round off a delightfully entertaining evening.

Farquhar's last play, when considered in context, is a testament to his fearless drive to innovate in his writing. In a radical shift to tradition, the conclusion is not with a double marriage, but with the celebration of a marriage and a divorce. After all, the notion of a woman divorcing, let alone the suggestion that she may remarry, was legally impossible at the time. The difficulty in reviving this play is to rediscover that sense of shock and surprise the audiences of the time must have felt at the notion that a woman could have authority of her own, and could leave the marriage of convenience to a powerful, wealthy man for real love. In absence of knowledge of this context as many of the audience will be (unless of course they read one of the wonderfully informative programmes the National are known for), the play loses some of its bite and gumption. Without this tension, the struggle of the women becomes quaint and nostalgic rather than admirable.

Certainly, Godwin's revival stands strongly as a witty comedy about the trials of love and respectability, and indeed is respectable for fairly presenting such a cross-section of society onstage. The energy and pace in the second act particularly whisks the audience up into the whirlwind of the strange manager of characters, and the pay off is worth the work. It is a shame, though, that the political and perhaps even revolutionary air of the play is lost in performance to an audience for whom divorce has become commonplace.

Pearce Quigley (Scrub) and Geoffrey Streatfield (Archer)
Photo by Manuel Harlan

Playing at the National Theatre until 20th September 2015. 
Tickets available here.

#15. Hope

Hope by Jack Thorne

Premiere: Royal Court Jerwood Theatre Downstairs (26 November 2014)

Published by NHB Modern Plays

Jack Thorne's optimistically titled political play Hope was recommended by a friend of mine, and it is a wonderful read. It centres around a small local Labour council and its struggling councillors fighting to survive through the crushing cuts the Conservative government have been forcing through in recent years. It is a cutting satire, which audiences of all political persuasions will be able to get a handle on. 

It has all the hallmarks of Jack Thorne's style. It is episodic, concise and economic while still having a wide-reaching resonance, and the central fight is essentially unwinnable. The council presented becomes a symbol of a country's larger struggle in the face of troubled economic times. Thorne's dialogue is quirky and tight, with a great sense of irony piercing the air throughout.

Jack Thorne's play will become seen as a wider indictment of the British two-party political system, and the ways in which several successive governments on both sides of the fence have failed.

What Thorne does so well in this play is what good journalists manage to do with huge, unwieldy subjects; he makes it personal. By focussing on a small group of counsellors and branching out to consider their personal lives alongside the professional, Thorne's play becomes touching, compassionate and human, as well as intensely political. 

It seems fair to say that Thorne has a slight leaning towards the left side of the argument, but his play not only examines the perceived damage of Tory budget cuts which disproportionally affect working class towns, it also examines the failings of the contemporary Labour Party and of the Labour/socialist movement as a whole. His taut character list spans several generations using the counsellors as the epicentre; an elderly father - a counsellor himself through the seventies - is the epitome of the post-war Labour movement, a teenage child represents the varying apathy and idealism of youth.  

In some respects, the play is already historical, as is the danger with writing an immensely timely play. It is very specifically located a few months before the last election, with comments made about "Ed's" concerns. And part of the play's power is its grounding in a set of all-too real circumstances, which for audiences at the time would have felt even more poignant. That said, I would suggest that going forward the play will find a different resonance; it will become seen as a wider indictment of the British two-party political system, and the ways in which several successive governments on both sides of the fence have failed. It shrewdly portrays the limits of our elected representatives, and their own selfish battles to achieve re-election and promotion.

Jack Thorne's writing finds power and resonance in the extraordinary moments within the everyday lives of those pushed forward to lead. Marvellously, it is not a dreary play - as the title suggests, there is optimism, humour and hope all loitering around in the age of austerity. Thorne doesn't preach or thrust forth his own solutions. Rather, his quietly profound play leaves you reconsidering many of your own political views, and questioning the political system as a whole. Truly effective, urgent satirical writing.

All photos of John Tiffany's production at the Royal Court, designed by Tom Scutt.
Photos by Johan Persson

Also by Jack Thorne: #10. Mydidae
Buy on Amazon here.