WHY HALESWORTH MATTERS TO THE NATIONAL DRAMATIC ECOSYSTEM
The other day I did an overview-preview from some dress rehearsals at the INK short play festival in Suffolk (scroll below), where each “Pod” may contain up to five short plays. Now its four crowded days have passed, a few comments.
Firstly, an audience point was made at the Future of the Arts debate: that we should respect the short play – 5 to 15 minutes – just as we respect the short stories of masters like Graham Greene or HH Munro. A lot can be conveyed in a short time. Some of the fun at INK lies in comic pieces which would not fall amiss in a TV sketch show – another ignored art form, too expensive for the networks now: whatever happened to the golden age of Armstrong and Miller, Victoria Wood, Enfield? But others are seriously thoughtful plays in their own right; and others again may prove to be the seed of full-length drama. That is why INK is so important, and so unique.
So – aside from the ones mentioned in the preview below – here are a few others worth picking out. I liked Richard Laurence’s quickfire cocktail party in which ideologies converse, unite their sympathies or bicker about outsiders – Marxism and Conservatism both hating Environmentalism and the suspicion it is gangng up with Populism to give birth to Authoritanism. In the same pod Martin Foreman offers a wicked take on the age of doorstep delivery; and two plays about gay and teenage-influencer culture were met, respectively, by close interest and hilarity by an audience which probably never touches much discussion of such lives on TV or in print. that’s another boost to human awareness that INK provides. Sometimes it’s familiarity -like the one on doorstep deliveries – and sometimes unfamiliarity that does the trick.
In another pod there were Celtic nuances at the White Swan: JOhn Boyne’s gloomy Galway landlady but better, Mike Guerin’s duel between political bill-posters. LLoyd Evans “Terrorist working from home” neatly skewered both that culture and the familiar misery of bureaucratic form-filling. But above all a really remarkable comedy by Tim Connery, LIght Entertainment, set up rivalry for a new quiz show job between the two most familiar figures of our time. Viincent Franklin is the Les-Dawson or Brucie figure, the old pro comedian with a daft but irresistiblg gag for every subject. HIs rival is closer to a handsome smoothie presenter fresh off reality TV and one bland album. The former, monstrous and hilarious, knows that controlling an audience involves creating a kind of helpless terror (think of Dame Edna). The latter wants to be smooth and cosy and safely dull , with scriptwritten gags provided . But they are both men terrified of not working, not being seen. It is the cleverest piece I have seen for months. I will look out for Connery’s name everywhere now. And Franklin’s too: he is also credited as directing that pod.
There were more; it is sad to have missed them. But pay attention to INK: it is always worth it.
theatreCat 