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Youth Theatre Reviews |
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Under Milk WoodBy Dylan Thomas Language has been singing within the walls of this exciting venue, The Doncaster Little Theatre. At its centre The Young Lit thrives and drives well over 150 children and teenagers to show their wealth as performers. For a week the Junior Group has made the famous “Play for Voices” by Welsh poet Dylan Thomas the landmark of The Doncaster Little Theatre’s celebratory 10th anniversary. Their daring choice has proved to be a serie of successful, well attended performances.
The play is a moving portrait of a small Welsh seaside town nesting at the feet or ‘under’ a wooded hill, hence the title Under Milk Wood. The narration takes us from dawn to dusk, a day-long journey through the lives of the inhabitants, observed beautifully by Thomas with authenticity and love. And the dead and the drowned come back to life in dreams, in cries and in ballads: “Oh, my dead dears!” exclaims Captain Cat, and again, “little Willy Wee who downed and died” sings Polly Garter. And their amours mingle with their daily lives: “I will lie by your side like the Sunday roast…” promises Mr Edwards.
A narrator, or First Voice, introduces all the characters, played by over thirty members of The Young Lit. The enthusiasm and spirit of drama they showed should make any parent, and anyone involved in the production, proud of what was accomplished.
The simple set had the familiar street names such as Coronation Street, Donkey Street, Cockle Street written in big white letters on the stage, with a clothes line on each side, from which parts of costumes were taken off to build new characters, photo projections covered the whole back wall, adding to the atmosphere of the town. Under the skilful direction of Jan Townend the young actors excelled in shaping the set. They ‘acted’ as waves, clocks, cows, and also (my favourite) the hill. The actors’ ability took us to the heart of drama at its best.
The direction was very filmic, with the characters always in movement; and it never ceased to reflect the musicality of Thomas’s poetry and prose. When the children adopted the Welsh accent to deliver their lines it was as if they were singing.
Like a conductor and his baton the narrator led his orchestra and the sounds came to life and to sincere emotions. We had a dear Captain Cat innocently beautiful in the ‘seesaw sea’ lines, and to remain brief, a delightful Lily Smalls reflecting on her own reflection in the “shaving-glass over the sink” with perfect wit.
The entire cast deserves a mention. It was a heartfelt performance; it was moving to feel they were the ‘children’ of Thomas’ dearest town.
Noëlle Planté
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