At Theatr Clwyd |
| Clwyd Theatr Cymru- Portrait of the Artist as a Young Dog , Taliesin Arts Centre, Swansea , February 13, 2004 |
| The North/South theatrical divide which exists in Wales means that Clwyd Theatr Cymru's productions always take a while to reach the southern half of the country. This piece - described in the company's publicity material as "a theatrical journey through the prose writings of Dylan Thomas" - predates Wales Theatre Company's production of Under Milk Wood by some months, and its stylistic influences upon the latter are so obvious that those members of the audience who had seen both productions had a whale of a time comparing notes after the show. In its earlier incarnation, the play's cast included women as well as men, but for reasons best known to himself director Tim Baker has opted for an all-male cast this time around, meaning that the players have to perform all the female roles. Other critics have applauded this as a brave move, but frankly I found it so irritating that at one point I had stop myself burying my head in my hands: ask a Welshman to impersonate a woman and all you end up with is Siôn Probert doing his gay hairdresser routine from Grand Slam. Part of the problem with this production is that the darker elements of Thomas's stories are severely dissipated by the humour which figures so heavily throughout the show. The Peaches, for example, contains some extraordinarily resonant and disturbing sequences which remain in the mind long after one has read the story - but what one remembers here is the comedy. Skilful comedy, it has to be said, performed with gusto by the five-strong cast, but totally incongruous. This is of course very much a period piece, and one which succeeds in capturing the spirit of an age which has long since vanished - as evinced by the obligatory jumpers and sleeveless pullovers worn by the characters. But there are minor blips: at one point, for instance, a character makes quotation marks with his fingers - a modern intrusion which jars very heavily - and I could not help noticing that the cast's shiny slip-on shoes did not quite match the rest of the wardrobe in terms of period authenticity. Nitpicking? Well, yes - but theatre is a visual medium, and even the smallest things matter. For all its faults, this was a hugely entertaining piece which had the audience grinning from ear to ear. The overly camp and animated approach may have detracted from the contemplative, brooding nature of Thomas's prose, but it was undoubtedly a work which scored a hit with its target audience and brought out the best in its performers(Steven Meo, Simon Nehan, Kai Owen, Christian Patterson and Aled Pugh). Finally, an aside to those of you who have been distracted by fellow theatregoers whose behaviour - be it unwrapping sweets or coughing or smooching - has been a source of distraction and/or irritation. At one point during the second half of the show I was joined by a gentleman who proceeded to sneeze, sniffle and blow his nose very loudly throughout the performance. Unable to concentrate, I left the auditorium for a short while and went back in a little while later. It was only much later that I discovered that the gentleman in question was not actually a member of the audience at all, but a member of the company. At moments like that, one doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. |
Reviewed by: Graham Williams |
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