The GM Fringe comes full circle. YES, the newest venue to host a fringe event, is neighbour to Joshua Brooks and The Lass O'Gowrie where fringe shows were staged back in the day.
Artists are talented people capable of producing works which dazzle and inspire and of using their celebrity to promote charitable causes. But their works may also be in poor taste (in pool (no water) an artwork is created using blood-stained bandages from AIDS patients) and of offering unwanted opinions upon subjects about which they know very little. If successful artists annoy the general public, they must infuriate fellow artists whose talents are, they argue, overlooked.
In Mark Ravenhill’s play, four artists who have never achieved their potential (but do a lot of work in the community) are consumed by jealously of a friend reaching superstardom. To make bad matters worse, she is generous, patronising their low-key exhibitions and inviting them to share the benefits of her fame, including the swimming pool at her luxurious home.
When the artist is injured, jumping into the pool which has been drained of water, her guests can hardly suppress their delight and continue to make use of her home as she lies in a coma. They are inspired to begin recording her injuries and later develop the idea into the concept of hosting a major exhibition based around her recovery. However, when the artist emerges from the coma, she has ideas of her own.
Director Arthur Loades stages the play in a disco. It is an inspired choice, such venues offering creative dance and music displays but also access to intoxicants which fuel unwise decisions. A karaoke microphone allows the friends to air their grievances, while glow-sticks simulate fire.
Loades uses a DJ set from Jess Rose to provide the musical background for an atmosphere of simmering violence. The cast initially begin with a discrete mime, by the end of which they have clawed a taped rectangle shape, representing both the swimming pool and a work of art, from the wall.
This is a restless, edgy production with the cast rarely standing still. The dance movements become less restrained as the cast regularly leap from the stage, throwing themselves into head-banging action in front of the audience as their characters seek to exorcise their jealousy or numb their desire to cause harm. Since Ravenhill’s play was written, popularism has run rampant, and the closing sequence of the failed artists, forced to acknowledge their talent is not to create their own works but to destroy those of others, feels highly relevant.
The script does not assign named characters to the cast but requires them to perform as an anonymous ‘round robin’ chorus articulating the resentment shared by the artists. A talented cast is not, however, restricted to reciting the script. Dean Michael Gregory is the most conflicted, admiring the artist’s ‘eye’ while planning her harm. The contempt felt by Michael Loftus is so intense as to not only ooze through his sarcastic vocals as to twist his body in angry contortions. Amber Gilmour is the least able to conceal her feelings, her constantly smiling face belied by the fact she slumps dejectedly against the wall or screams in anger. Grace Houston indulges in hypocrisy, cozying up to the artist with honeyed vocals as she makes her recovery.
When the friends are caught in the act of destruction, the petty nature of their grievance becomes apparent with the cast reacting like naughty children, almost relieved to be forced to end their excessive behaviour.
This is a daring production of a demanding play which achieves a constant undercurrent of humour while cutting into the pretensions of the characters and setting out their jealous resentment in unflinching detail. With pool (no water), ETAL Theatre has made an artwork with a dark and terrible beauty and their colleagues are bound to be jealous.