You can always rely upon Vamos to come up with something new. Those who saw 'Boy On The Roof' on its last tour were treated to a fair number of big surprises. They pushed the boundaries of their subject matter and technology further than ever before. The use of video was much more essential to the story and, for a show which doesn't use the spoke word, it was pretty noisy.
But Vamos felt they could make more of it - and with this new version, they have reached right down into the soul of their story, stripped out some of the paraphernalia of the production, and allowed the emotions of the piece flow out over the footlights. Their young audience at Shrewsbury's Theatre Severn were clearly gripped, as they watched characters they could relate to closely try to cope with their difficult circumstances.
In keeping with writer/director Rachael Savage’s eternal quest for authenticity, a boy actually did climb onto a roof once - deciding the roof was the best place to go for a spot of peace and quiet, in light of his Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder.
Being told that story by the boy's mother was Rachael’s starting point. For even greater authenticity, she has engaged an actor with ADHD - Emilie Largier - to play him. Mask mime theatre is shorn of spoken dialogue, so her personal experience is surely vital to the portrayal of the condition through posture and movement. The result is mesmerising.
In the play, young Liam is mis-functioning at school. He might have won a trophy on the football field, but he’s rubbish at everything else. We know this because we see quotes from his school report, and texts from his teachers, projected onto his living room wall. Needless to say, this is of exasperating concern to his highly bothered mother (Angela Laverick), and domestic friction is a cause of both anxiety and laugher in the audience. For Liam, the loneliness of ADHD prevails, and we clearly see how it also makes his night-shift mother's life a misery - though there is a heart-breaking reconciliation to come.
Being old and lonely can have similar impact to ADHD, so we zoom in on the lovely old widower Albert (Aron De Casmaker), alone down the street with his wireless and chessboard. This is a beautifully poignant portrayal of isolation. The only opponent Albert has for his games of chess is a photo of his late wife, wrapped in a scarf to keep her warm. He keep losing his glasses - and finds them in the fridge - and his heavy sighs brings a tear to the eye. His body language is one of defeat - especially when his fraught daughter sweeps through his room trying to spend as little time with him as possible.
Albert and Liam are both deeply overlooked and isolated - one by frantic chaos, and one by deep sadness - until, by chance, they meet.
Albert teaches Liam the rudiments of chess and Liam beats him. The old man struggles with his mobile phone but Liam fixes it in an instant and introduces him to the joys of the selfie.
In return, Albert shows the lad old-fashioned cine film of his departed wife cycling in the park... till it fails. So Liam loads the footage onto a virtual headset and straps it onto Albert's head. With the aid of his wheelchair, Albert has the revelation of cycling with her once more - yet more tears.
It’s in these scenes that Vamos pushes the envelope again. The greater use of video shows us what lies beyond the living room windows. We see the daily tide of going to and from school; Albert's joy at meeting a new born baby and Liam's delight at being able to gently stem its crying. They are lovely moments.
More masked characters gather in the street, and are aware of the impending climax of the play before we are. It’s clever stuff. It broadens the context of the play - and it works a treat.
The new ending is particularly innovative and uplifting, and the reworking of the show really does release more raw emotion than before. We inhabit these struggling characters, rather than just watch them.
On the spectrum of content and comedy, this is a much more balanced production of Boy On The Roof. It affords us a very clear idea of what it must be like to feel desperately isolated, no matter what your age.
One of the curses of isolation is the lack of verbal communication; so it is a perfect subject for a play without words. I'm so glad I got to see this refined version.
Four Stars
Boy On The Roof was reviewed by Chris Eldon Lee at Shrewsbury's Theatre Severn. The production shows at Birmingham's Midlands Arts Centre (MAC) on Friday 28 February, and Worcester's Swan Theatre on Sunday 9 March.
Vamos Revamped!
You can always rely upon Vamos to come up with something new. Those who saw 'Boy On The Roof' on its last tour were treated to a fair number of big surprises. They pushed the boundaries of their subject matter and technology further than ever before. The use of video was much more essential to the story and, for a show which doesn't use the spoke word, it was pretty noisy.
But Vamos felt they could make more of it - and with this new version, they have reached right down into the soul of their story, stripped out some of the paraphernalia of the production, and allowed the emotions of the piece flow out over the footlights. Their young audience at Shrewsbury's Theatre Severn were clearly gripped, as they watched characters they could relate to closely try to cope with their difficult circumstances.
In keeping with writer/director Rachael Savage’s eternal quest for authenticity, a boy actually did climb onto a roof once - deciding the roof was the best place to go for a spot of peace and quiet, in light of his Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder.
Being told that story by the boy's mother was Rachael’s starting point. For even greater authenticity, she has engaged an actor with ADHD - Emilie Largier - to play him. Mask mime theatre is shorn of spoken dialogue, so her personal experience is surely vital to the portrayal of the condition through posture and movement. The result is mesmerising.
In the play, young Liam is mis-functioning at school. He might have won a trophy on the football field, but he’s rubbish at everything else. We know this because we see quotes from his school report, and texts from his teachers, projected onto his living room wall. Needless to say, this is of exasperating concern to his highly bothered mother (Angela Laverick), and domestic friction is a cause of both anxiety and laugher in the audience. For Liam, the loneliness of ADHD prevails, and we clearly see how it also makes his night-shift mother's life a misery - though there is a heart-breaking reconciliation to come.
Being old and lonely can have similar impact to ADHD, so we zoom in on the lovely old widower Albert (Aron De Casmaker), alone down the street with his wireless and chessboard. This is a beautifully poignant portrayal of isolation. The only opponent Albert has for his games of chess is a photo of his late wife, wrapped in a scarf to keep her warm. He keep losing his glasses - and finds them in the fridge - and his heavy sighs brings a tear to the eye. His body language is one of defeat - especially when his fraught daughter sweeps through his room trying to spend as little time with him as possible.
Albert and Liam are both deeply overlooked and isolated - one by frantic chaos, and one by deep sadness - until, by chance, they meet.
Albert teaches Liam the rudiments of chess and Liam beats him. The old man struggles with his mobile phone but Liam fixes it in an instant and introduces him to the joys of the selfie.
In return, Albert shows the lad old-fashioned cine film of his departed wife cycling in the park... till it fails. So Liam loads the footage onto a virtual headset and straps it onto Albert's head. With the aid of his wheelchair, Albert has the revelation of cycling with her once more - yet more tears.
It’s in these scenes that Vamos pushes the envelope again. The greater use of video shows us what lies beyond the living room windows. We see the daily tide of going to and from school; Albert's joy at meeting a new born baby and Liam's delight at being able to gently stem its crying. They are lovely moments.
More masked characters gather in the street, and are aware of the impending climax of the play before we are. It’s clever stuff. It broadens the context of the play - and it works a treat.
The new ending is particularly innovative and uplifting, and the reworking of the show really does release more raw emotion than before. We inhabit these struggling characters, rather than just watch them.
On the spectrum of content and comedy, this is a much more balanced production of Boy On The Roof. It affords us a very clear idea of what it must be like to feel desperately isolated, no matter what your age.
One of the curses of isolation is the lack of verbal communication; so it is a perfect subject for a play without words. I'm so glad I got to see this refined version.
Four Stars
Boy On The Roof was reviewed by Chris Eldon Lee at Shrewsbury's Theatre Severn. The production shows at Birmingham's Midlands Arts Centre (MAC) on Friday 28 February, and Worcester's Swan Theatre on Sunday 9 March.