Break Up Theatre provides a theatrical double bill with no thematic connection between the two short plays.
Written and performed by Amber Hainge-Cox and Michael Deacon, The Things We Think About creates enormous challenges for the cast. The duo performs 40 short monologues on specific subjects, from crisps to aliens, with the order of performance determined by a spinning wheel so as to simulate the random nature of our thought processes.
Although Hainge-Cox and Deacon toss a coin and play rock-paper-scissors to determine who will begin the monologues and who will make the concluding statement, there is no element of competition. On the contrary, they cooperate, switching from monologue to conversation and even brief physical interactions.
The subjects take the duo in surprising directions. "Piano lessons" generates a rejection of middle-class family values. "The London Underground" prompts a charming fantasy on the type of idealised cultured metropolitan personality we dream of adopting while travelling around by tube.
The play avoids pomposity. Some of the topics prompt simple jokes—our former Prime Minster is summed up in a terse one-liner, while the topic of "Vaping" throws up the question, "Where’s my vape?".
Hainge-Cox and Deacon rise to the considerable challenges presented by the unique format of The Things We Think About to create an engaging and wholly charming diversion.
The Clandestine Insurgent Rebel Clown Army used clowning and non-violent tactics to protest at the G8 Summit in Scotland. Who knew? Raising awareness of this bizarre form of protest seems to be the point of Sam Hey’s All Cops Are _______.
Alice (sole performer Amy Chung dressed as a marvellous combination of Charlie Cairoli and an urban guerrilla) is a police officer who has infiltrated the Clown Army to gain insight into their plans and tip-off her superiors. But heavy-handed enforcement by the police tempts Alice into revealing her true identity.
The inherent silliness of the authorities being so paranoid as to feel infiltrating a bunch of clowns (or indeed any protesters) is justified hangs over the production. Amy Chung is a trooper throwing herself into the clown antics, building balloon animals and coping with balancing a colander on her head. However, as is often the case with tales involving police officers undertaking ethically dubious duties, we are given no idea of the character’s personal opinions on the morality of her work. Alice becomes, therefore, a means of communicating information to the audience but is less effective at prompting outrage.
Sam Hey’s script balances the motivation of the protesters, whose clowning around is intended to demonstrate their humanity and to form a connection with the police via humour, with the heavy-handed techniques of the authorities. Dehumanising treatment—corralling protesters in an enclosed area without toilet facilities and subjecting prisoners to sleep and food deprivation—is reported in a satirical, clownish manner.
All Cops Are _______ might benefit from further development to draw out Alice’s personality, but it remains an unusual way of raising awareness of a remarkable attempt to challenge authority.