February 11, 2010
Solidly funny, gritty and touching, this is a stunning production. It helps that it's a good play, and the Trinity Players are certainly doing it justice. It's clear from the outset that the cast feel safe with each other, that directors Chloe Courtney and Charlotte Mulliner have created a space where experimentation is good and the actors can take risks. How else could they so thoroughly explore the characters?
The play follows the first Brits sent to the penal colony in Australia, both the convicts transported and the officers there to oversee them. The cast double up, so nearly everyone plays overlord and underling. Only 2nd Lieutenant Ralph Clark remains himself, stuck in the middle. In some ways this is the hardest part: his transformation is perhaps subtler than the others, he can't express his acting ability by playing a variety of parts. Rhys Bevan did very well at this. Central, blossoming slowly, uncomfortably restricted by etiquette even in the New World.
But he was not alone. It's often said that all of a cast are equally strong, but rarely is this as true as here. The changes in this play are always going to be quick, more so in the BT and even harder in a layout with no real offstage. To establish which of your characters you're being while you're still putting half your costume on, that is impressive.
You can tell a lot about a production by the quality of the accents. Irish, Devonshire, broad Scots, upper class, drunk - the script is quite definite. And they were seamless. Freya Willett's brogue, as Ketch, was especially impressive, as was Major Ross's outlandish Highland-ish from Rob Jones. Freya was also Meg Long - making the most of the comedy, but pushing the part far enough to be really quite creepy. Once or twice I was taken aback to find I didn't recognise an actor when they changed parts.
In the intimate confines of the BT I could feel the rest of the audience's reactions, and we were all equally engrossed. We all jumped, and laughed, and winced, suspending our disbelief despite being packed like sardines. The first night was sold out. The others deserve to be too, and if you want to see it I'd get in there quick.
The play follows the first Brits sent to the penal colony in Australia, both the convicts transported and the officers there to oversee them. The cast double up, so nearly everyone plays overlord and underling. Only 2nd Lieutenant Ralph Clark remains himself, stuck in the middle. In some ways this is the hardest part: his transformation is perhaps subtler than the others, he can't express his acting ability by playing a variety of parts. Rhys Bevan did very well at this. Central, blossoming slowly, uncomfortably restricted by etiquette even in the New World.
But he was not alone. It's often said that all of a cast are equally strong, but rarely is this as true as here. The changes in this play are always going to be quick, more so in the BT and even harder in a layout with no real offstage. To establish which of your characters you're being while you're still putting half your costume on, that is impressive.
You can tell a lot about a production by the quality of the accents. Irish, Devonshire, broad Scots, upper class, drunk - the script is quite definite. And they were seamless. Freya Willett's brogue, as Ketch, was especially impressive, as was Major Ross's outlandish Highland-ish from Rob Jones. Freya was also Meg Long - making the most of the comedy, but pushing the part far enough to be really quite creepy. Once or twice I was taken aback to find I didn't recognise an actor when they changed parts.
In the intimate confines of the BT I could feel the rest of the audience's reactions, and we were all equally engrossed. We all jumped, and laughed, and winced, suspending our disbelief despite being packed like sardines. The first night was sold out. The others deserve to be too, and if you want to see it I'd get in there quick.