In this tent there is an ordinary town. There is a butcher, a baker, a Pilates instructor, and a body lying in a pool of blood.
Right now, the man before us is being a storyteller and we are being an audience. This is the story of a place, a town, a people which we are going to imagine together. “Well done” he intones as we visualise a woman, a man on a bike, a cow wearing a hat. The storyteller gives “roles” to audience members as townspeople – it’s an exciting thing to do together he suggests, to be part of the story.
Right now, he is being a postman, standing in the middle of the town, open mouthed and pointing. But the story starts six months before, at the retiral of a woman who worked at the museum, an event disturbed by the arrival of a stranger. “Right now, I am being a politician” he picks up the tale three months later during strange and difficult times that have necessitated a meeting. People are scared and lost. Things have been misplaced, small at first but then larger, buildings, parts of the town. And the people collectively look to appoint blame, seeking the cuckoo in their midst. Things are turning nasty.
A twist in the plot suggests that one could believe that there are realities here, things that are in the news, things that we think but are not allowed to say. Right now, what are we being?
The piece is a surreal, dark and unsettling look at the idea of nation and how the narrative can be changed to make the unreasonable and outlandish true, not matter how artificial. The atmosphere is enhanced by the nuanced lighting and the sound design, sometimes counterpointing birdsong with discordant metal on stone.
A hypnotic performance, and right now, at a time when the nation is being rocked by riots, the play’s prescience is frightening beyond imagination.
Show times: 1 to 26 (not 13, 20) August 2024 at 10.30am.
Tickets: £16 - £17 (£14.50).
Suitability: Age 12+. (Contains audience participation, strong language/swearing).