Playing Pretend Review
Scarlett Ryan
3.5/5
Playing Pretend is about growing up, letting go of our childhood, and the nostalgia we feel for what we have lost. Jake Fenton’s writing explores the collision of two worlds: the “real” or adult world, and the world of imagination and play. It explores loss, memory, time and the power of our imagination in framing our experience. Time becomes ‘tricky’, making us uncertain about when the various narrative events occurred and if they are real or illusions of the mind. The story follows the lives of Sammy (Kiko Gomersall), Jason (Maddy Power) and Teddy (Mia Glencrose) and their friendship as they grow up – but, following the mysterious disappearance of Teddy, Sammy and Jason must find a way to overcome their loss. Fenton’s script is certainly innovative but also borrows from many sources – from medieval to modern (to attempt to name them with certainty would be impossible). The writing is original, personal and at times extremely moving.
In the realm of imagination, the old imaginary friends of our protagonists have begun to decay. The performances of Moth, Cobweb and Peablossom (Francesca Lees, Flossie Adrian and Sophie Stemmons respectively) are eerie and surreal. Bearing similarities to Shakespeare’s witches in Macbeth, though also resembling post-apocalypse character tropes, these three fairies haunt the stage and the world of reality. In a brilliant combination of voice and movement, they feel truly unhuman, seeming more like creatures or mythical beasts than people. Yet each had their own sense of individuality – it felt like they simultaneously operated alone and as a group, and it was hard to tell which took superiority. These performances were unsettling and utterly captivating. Commendation must be made to Fenton’s direction here, along with Ella Palmer’s movement direction and choreography, as these performances are otherworldly, but also subtle and tight.
Gomersall and Power drive much of the narrative and form an interesting, if not disjointed, pair. There is certainly a sense that, as time has progressed, they have lost their connection to one another. Gomersall’s performance is big and at times exaggerated, but never loses its real sense of humanity behind it; Sammy appears unhinged – deranged, even – but there is a delicateness, a softness to him also. Power provides an intriguing masculinity to Gomersall’s femininity, revealing the growing rift between them; Power’s performance is coarse and rigid whereas Gomersall’s appears more vulnerable and fluid. While generally convincing in their roles, there was something of an “actoriness” to them. It was at times a little obvious that they were acting as opposed to being their characters. Power’s leather-jacket-wearing attempt at gruffness sometimes felt rather put on (of course on both these fronts, it could be intentional, though it felt a bit jarring in that it broke the sense of reality within the fiction). Both were enjoyable to watch however and communicated their roles efficiently.
Ryan Keys’ Richard was particularly engaging in his portrayal of trauma and memory loss. The smallest details, like a quivering hand or stutters in his voice, combined to form a truly believable and moving performance. The only question left following this performance, however, was where exactly Richard fitted into the narrative and what purpose he served. While the performance was certainly successful, its narrative link remains unclear.
Mia Glencrose gave a believable portrayal of the child-like Teddy, who truly felt like a character who had found themselves in a horrifying world they did not understand. The innocence found in her presentation of Teddy was notably endearing, and no small feat.
What was truly impressive about this production was its world-building – the vast expanses which seemed to expand far beyond the walls of the Corpus Playroom nevertheless maintained a clarity in the mind of the audience. This was achieved, unsurprisingly, by the imagination of the audience; that is to say, the ways in which the production team stimulated our minds into conjuring the world for ourselves. As was noted in our preview, Thalia Witherford aimed to create an extremely natural feel in her costume design, as though ‘the fairies emerged from the scrap heap’. She certainly achieves this blend of the magical and real – she has also emphasised that the aesthetic was not dystopian, though there is a sense that these imaginary creatures live in a post-apocalyptic realm. This is due to the sense of decay seen all around: the set blends scrap with moss, buildings with ivy crawling up them; to those who have watched any of The Last of Us, similar images of a fallen civilisation may come to mind. There is a sense that the land of imagination has fallen into disrepair due to the inevitable maturing of Sammy and Jason. This blend of magic and disease in the costumes of the “imaginary” characters, and the extreme ordinariness of the “real” ones, really brought out the play’s themes and allowed us to glimpse at the worlds they inhabit.
Speaking of these worlds, Lily Brough’s lighting design hugely aided the narrative in separating the two worlds of the narrative, before bleeding them together. Coupled with the set and costume, the lighting immerses us in the world(s) and encourages an acceptance of the non-reality of the piece. Everything is boldly lit in striking greens, oranges and blues, creating a surreal, almost psychedelic feel. It is experimental but effective, and clearly has had thought put into its visual communication – it had something about its evocativeness that ought to be seen on our stages more often.
The sound design seems to have been very collaborative: Angela Okafor is credited, yet Claudia Vyvyan (as script developer and co-director) has also stated her involvement in creating the soundscapes. The sound design ranged from electronic beeping (like a heart rate monitor) to news broadcasts, to Hans Zimmer-esque synth tracks (think Blade Runner). There was thus both a grounded and dystopian feel to the sound supporting the narrative effectively. At times it was dizzying in the way it was felt as well as heard – it truly pulled you into another world altogether.
Playing Pretend is extremely unique and offers a fascinating insight into the themes of imagination and adulthood. It explores the capacities and boundaries of theatre and asks what drama is. It is not an easy play – it requires the imaginative participation and a willingness to be a part of their world – but if you choose to accept, it will gift you with a sense of magic you may have lost. At times it is more emotional in its ideas rather than evoking a more direct emotional response, but once it ends, you wish you could stay a little longer. Perhaps this is because of the markedly short run time or the abruptness of its ending, but this play certainly leaves you with a desire for more.
Playing Pretend is running this week as a late show (21.30 start) from Wednesday 8th February to Saturday 11th at the Corpus Playroom. You can book your tickets here.