The Burton Taylor Studio can do many things. It can host musicals, classical plays, stand-up comedy and annual drama competitions. But if there’s one thing that underscores its very reason for existence, it’s to provide a small, intimate space where dramatists, actors and directors can just try things out. Create some characters, have them say stuff to each other, see how they react, watch where it takes you. This is the lifeblood of theatre. Without it, how can the playwrights of tomorrow hone their art, and discover the alchemy that happens when words move from page to stage?
Of course I love watching great, finely-tuned masterpieces of theatre. Sampi isn’t that, nor does it have the slightest pretention to being so. There’s a different thrill to witnessing committed and talented people explore the edges of dialogue. It’s like watching someone starting to make a musical instrument out of a lump of wood, rather than perform Beethoven’s violin concerto on a Stradivarius.
Sampi presents us with three friends preparing a party. They argue, share memories and half-buried resentments. They have nosebleeds, get very excited about the implications of reincarnation in a chicken sandwich, and discuss their jobs. One of them does llama-handling for FTSE 500 companies on away-days; another works at a bird sanctuary despite being terrified of magpies. They faint, they roll watermelons across the floor, and – in one of the most enjoyably theatrical elements of the evening – they each have a conversation with their own disembodied conscience, who addresses them from off-stage accompanied by disco music. If all this sounds surreal...well actually, it isn’t. Sampi feels like eavesdropping on a very believable situation. It’s just that it’s a situation of which we, the audience, have no prior knowledge. Author/director Oliver Roberts feels no compunction to let us in on the back-story, and why should he? Part of the intention here is to explore ways to engage the audience beyond conventional character construction.
Highlights included Nat’s monologue with his chicken sandwich, Sara’s speech about executives emailing during their llama experience, and Hayley’s somewhat abrupt response to her ‘sexy conscience’ voice. Lowlights: I felt the constant pacing of the characters undermined their stage presence, and having a timer on display throughout the show does tend to draw the eye of audience members who can’t wait to get to the pub.
But you know…
Perhaps it’s strange for a critic to say this, but I don’t think it’s really up to me to say what worked and what didn’t in this play. It’s not really my business. This was a sandbox of theatrical experimentation. What matters is that there was evidently a huge amount of burgeoning talent in that sandbox, and it wasn’t just sitting there like a bored toddler. It was really playing with that sand.