wealth and hellbeing
The Bacchanals confirm the must-see status of all they do with
Nicholas St John's darkly comic
Wealth and Hellbeing, their
first play by a writer still alive. Heavy metal bedevilled
Eric (Carey Smith) gives birth to Mephistopheles (Rebecca Lawrence)
and negotiates darkness and light with Gothic cohorts Damien & Trent,
and innocent (or is she?) Natasha (Ah Satan backwards) while his
ranting would-be Lodge Master Dad and tongue-cooking peace-maker
Mum despair (all played by Tina Helm and James Stewart).
David Lawrence directs dynamic performances (apart from
one over-long strip/costume change) with simple staging and strong
light and sound elements.
- John Smythe,
National Business Review
The Bacchanals, having explored Greek and Shakespearian theatre, turn
their theatrical attention to Devil Theatre. Eric, born with a sick
head, summons Mephistopheles in a fit of pique with his parents. He
finds having his wishes granted doesn't bring him the ecstasy he
anticipated. Great performances - especially from Carey Smith (Eric),
James Stewart and Tina Helm, shame about the script.
- Lynn Freeman,
Capital Times
...Finally, a wrap-up of some Fringe plays.
Wealth and Hellbeing
by Nicholas St John was a surprise after his
Glamour in the Sinning
Room. Though it was also marked by the writer's interest in the
arcana of demonism, it presented a much more interesting analysis of
youthful alienation. This was set in a format recalling Marlowe's
Dr Faustus and also
thematically reminiscent of Sartre's Huis
Clos.
David Lawrence's production gave the play the best argument it
could hope for, with strong performances and excellent, sparse
production elements. While not a great work, the play did show that
St John has a real gift for writing about people interacting. If he
can be kept form the works of Huysmans and Aleister Crowley, that gift
might flourish.
- Timothy O'Brien,
The Dominion
It is difficult to know where to start with a review of
Wealth
and Hellbeing. Nicholas St John writes on what he calls 'Devil
Theatre' in the programme: "Is it comedy? Is it tragedy? Who knows?
Devil Theatre has always been a genre that provokes controversy". And
then just to intimidate an unsuspecting reviewer he adds: "Here is what
a non-initiated Dominion reviewer, himself an aspiring playwright, wrote
about the original production of
Glamour in the Sinning Room."
[This is an earlier play by St John which was first performed in 1997
and is being repeated in this Fringe Festival] St John then gives us
extracts form what must be one of the most uncomplimentary reviews I
have ever read. Some of the more restrained bits were: "There was
sloppy, puerile writing, non-existent direction, acting that made
Shortland Street look like
the Royal Shakespeare Company and
a poorly conceptualised set design" and "The unkindest joke ... was
letting this script see the light of day."
Not wanting to appear uninitiated I rushed off to the reference
books and phoned a few friends but was no wiser so decided Devil Theatre
must either be a new genre that had escaped me or just something from
the lineage of Medieval Morality plays and Faust.
Wealth and
Hellbeing certainly had links with Faust. A young boy, Eric
(Carey Smith), who is a devil of a child, gives birth to the devil
(or the devil within himself) and makes a pact with him to get all
his wishes and desires fulfilled. The only problem is that when he
thinks about it he does not really want any of them once they are
within his grasp. Linking Eric's scenes with the devil are scenes
with his parents trying to deal with their devil of a son, the
counsellor who tries to analyse him and other incidents.
The remarkable thing about this play is that the production
bore no relationship to the one seen by the unfortunate Dominion
reviewer and which St John wasted so much space on in the programme.
It was well structured, well directed, well set and confidently and
competently acted. The four letter words did not seem gratuitous and
I neither wanted to rush out of the theatre before it was finished
from boredom or shock nor did I sit riveted to my seat enrapt; but
I am glad I have now had my introduction to Devil Theatre. I hope
what I have written is little enough to protect me from St John's
threat to reviewers - "Never mess with Devil Theatre" or there will
be a dastardly outcome similar to the one that struck the Dominion
reviewer (which is too dreadful for me to mention here).
- John Batstone,
Theatre News
Hellishly funny but horror needs heating up
While I was waiting to enter Bats' auditorium to see a genre of drama
I have not seen before - Devil Theatre - a tremendous gust of wind flung
open the doors, causing papers to swirl about me and the floorboards to
lift under my feet revealing a dark hole. It was like a brief scene from
The Exorcist.
Then I read a notice pinned to the door which stated ominously,
"You will not enjoy this play", which seemed to fit with the brief
description given in the Fringe programme: "Marlowe (Christopher) meets
Manson (Charles or Marilyn, take your pick)."
Despite the injunction on the door, I did enjoy the play. Well,
the comic bits which succeeded in raising a laugh from the audience,
such as when Eric, who is pregnant with the Devil, ends up with his
face in a plate of mashed potato, when Trent, one of Eric's
"toilet-block mates" is seriously bored, when Eric's suburban mum,
dad and therapist all try to communicate with him and when the very
conventional Devil turns Eric's girlfriend into a sex maniac.
The problem with Faustus stories is that there's no suspense:
the Devil always wins the soul and when the tempo of the play flagged,
so did my enjoyment. The horror bits were like all horror bits on
stage - pretty silly, really. The other problem with Faustus stories
in this day and age is that we lack the language to express the horror.
Constantly repeated swear words are quite simply inadequate. Give me
Marlowe any day.
The company - The Bacchanals - will have to improve on the
blood and horror when they tackle
Titus Andronicus later in the
year, which they intend to rotate on weekdays with
The Jew of Malta
and Volpone, then run a
nine-hour marathon on Saturdays with all
three.
- Laurie Atkinson,
The Evening Post
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