Tags
Crime, East Anglia, Edinburgh Festival, Edinburgh Fringe, Friendship, Jacob Lloyd, Jez Butterworth, Kathryn Lewin, Norfolk, Nudity, Rob Hoare Nairne, Sitcom, The Night Heron, Theatre Review
Jez Butterworth’s “The Night Heron,” which is currently being performed at the Surgeon’s Hall by Oxford’s Rabid Monkey Productions, is like an episode of one of those old sitcoms that the BBC used to be so good at, in which forlorn mismatched friends share a flat or an office, from where they weekly tackle some petty challenge such as a dinner party or a job interview. We need to commission five more episodes of “The Night Heron.” I am not certain that I am damning with faint praise, for the essence of this production derives from its strength of characters – well drawn, well acted characters, whom, when they come together, evoke that homely sitcom atmosphere in which one can relax and enjoy the laughs.
Two mates – Jess (Rob Hoare Nairne) and Griffin (Jacob Lloyd) – share a cottage on the Norfolk broads. They used to work as gardeners, but they are now unemployed. Griffin is a gorblimey chap and he does all the talking, whilst Jess is sullen and awkward, a muttering religious enthusiast. They take on a lodger – the blunt ex-jailbird Bolla – whose portrayal by Kathryn Lewin is perfect to a hair. Bolla swings from hearty chumminess to wailing self-doubt – she loathes Cambridge students for their power and wealth, whilst not appearing to recognise that she received just as good an education as them whilst she was in the clink. Sadly, there is no stab at evoking these characters in the gorgeous East Anglian accent, but this play’s version of Norfolk seems endearingly like the Wild-West – an anarchy of tough outlaws, itinerate preachers, and good ole boys who live hand to mouth. The plot is nifty on its feet and the nudity (cock rating: 7.8) is for once used to extremely funny effect.
Yet my criticism lies more with the conception than with the cast, or with the play’s dissent from my idea of what it should be. The progress of the angel motif, from a recently-spotted heron which is hunted by birdwatchers to the “fall” of a naked man into the cottage’s kitchen, is cleverly done, but the creeping of shadows across the play, along with the stale and leaden fare of exposed paedophilia (if admittedly lightened by some ambiguity) is simply unnecessary. Moreover, the final insights into Griffin’s character are implausible and they transform our cheery companion into a sad stranger. Although, as in all good sitcoms, the characters end up in a frightful pickle, they are good friends and they are given a car, so that rather than sinking into despair, they could simply drive away to next week’s adventure.
[In the light of all the male nudity which I have seen recently, “Cock Rating” is a new feature which reviews exposed male genitals for those who think that this is an important part of the play. Ed]
Tychy 