Drama
Tea for Trial, by Jessica Welsh, centres on a girl (The Accused) who finds herself on trial for murder in a court resembling the Mad Hatter's tea party. She finds her own sense of the traditional process of justice questioned by the unorthodox means of her judge and prosecutor, who seem rather more interested in jokes and impromptu marshmallow fights than determining whether or not she is guilty. Welsh (who also directs) imbues her play with all the delight in confusion, twisted logic and fanciful wordplay which characterises Lewis Carroll's work. Like Alice, The Accused finds it difficult to adapt to the playful systems of the world she finds herself in. Any sense of objectivity becomes laughable; when The Accused questions the Judge on his notion of justice he responds that it just is. It is a credit to Welsh's writing that the puns are both smart and funny. She maintains a decidedly dark edge to what otherwise could become quite as twee as a tea party: one minute the prosecutor is throwing food at the Accused and the next he is threatening to break her bones.
Saskia de Groot brings a shrill urgency and whiff of fear to The Accused, who believes she is trapped in a dream. Robert Marshall delights in the role of the Judge, mating the character's quirks and puns to an impression of the grand old man, who knows all the answers but has forgotten most of them. Tom Eastcott provides a foil to Marshall's gravity with his nervy and excitable Prosecutor.
Tea for Trial does not take itself very seriously (which is always a relief in new writing), touching engagingly on ideas of aesthetics and perspectivism. Like the audience, the Prosecutor and the Judge are less interested in The Accused herself than in her dramatic performance. They see the trial as an opportunity for debate and play, not judgement and finality. Perhaps this is both the play's greatest weakness and its ultimate strength: its enjoyment of its own inconsequentiality. This sharply written and very amusing play deserves to be seen, if for no other reason than that it once again reminds of the quality and wit of Oxford writing.
As a play, film and book, 'A Clockwork Orange' has acquired cult status due to its ultra-violence and its inventive use of language.
Sam Leifer's direction of 'A Clockwork Orange' is inventive and daring. There are few props, instead the cast shape themselves into furniture and scenery. The play's numerous fight scenes are directed with precision and imagination, watch out for the bicycle! The production experiments creatively with lighting, sound, film and costume. In the later stages of the drama when Alex loses his power of speech the recorded voices of other characters speak for him and film is being used to compliment the action on stage. Credit should be given to Leifer and his production team for their originality although they risk filling the play with gimmicks. The acting is of a high quality. Andy Dawson interprets Alex as a cheeky Geordie, his innocence and frankness make the contrast more shocking when the cruel, unstable facet of his character is revealed. Will Stevens as Dim, Alex's 'droog' is most impressive. Steven John Holgate's hilarious performance as the prison chaplain deserves particular mention. Despite being a highly proficient production 'A Clockwork Orange' lacks emotional involvement in some ways. On screen it is possible to enact violence that is truly disturbing; in the theatre it is more difficult. The fight scenes are capably directed but are not brutish enough to really shock and horrify an audience accustomed to seeing violence on film. 'A Clockwork Orange' is stimulating and exciting to watch. The creativity of the production and the notoriety of the story should undoubtedly appeal to an Oxford audience.
This semi-autobiographical tale follows a moving plot about pubescent children discovering sexuality and repression, and dealing with tragedy. Roe creates for a period feel in his costumes and direction; he has chosen well and the actors don't seem as if they are fighting against the text. The music is beautifully crafted by Amoret Abis; the play-out from Act I in particular is incredibly moving and exquisitely written. One concern was the relevance of the underscoring. The music comes at predictable points during the action; and as a result it has little effect; notwithstanding the manipulation of sound levels at a later stage. I certainly hope that this will be re-worked; the music is truly excellent and it is not yet being used to its full potential.
Note must be made of Polly Findlay, (Wendla), whose performance is absolutely breath-taking - the best I have seen in student drama in Oxford. Convincing throughout, the play is worth seeing for her alone. Andy King, (Mauritz), leads the male actors with similar ability. His childish nature is enjoyable, and only occasionally does the mask slip. We feel that his 'immorality' is based on a genuine naïve desire to be 'good'. The cynicism he puts into the character is satisfying and his movements are sincere.
Some of the production is truly brilliant. An interesting approach, concentrating on the children, what they perceive and decide in their lives is reflected not only in the staging, but also in the set, music, lighting - every aspect of the production has been geared around what the children of this tragic and moving story feel.
21st Feb 2002