Lorna sits in a chair reading a magazine with nervous intensity while the audience take their seats. We know from the ambient noise and her demeanour that she is in a waiting room and this is a medical establishment; and she’s beyond nervous, she’s fully anxious and worried which is coming out in suppressed anger. To achieve that by just sitting and reading is a quite astonishing acting skill, even before the show starts. Setting the scene so simply but with such effectiveness is quite brave and requires a confident and skilled performer with a maturity beyond her apparent years. Enter Benji, and we discover – without it ever being said explicitly – that they are in a clinic and she is waiting for an appointment to go through the process of abortion after their one night fling. Not instantly the first thought of the subject for a comedy, yet the whole play is fantastically laugh out loud funny, while not making fun of any serious elements.
Rhys Quilley plays Benji with such adorable quirky geekiness it actually comes across as charming. His discomfort at not knowing what to say or saying the wrong thing and putting his foot in it with impeccable comedy timing is utterly hilarious. Eve Crutchley is equally matched in skill in playing Lorna, with fierceness and anger masking fragility and vulnerability, and a desperation of pushing people away who she wants close. The dynamic they have between them is so real it’s almost tangible. The inclusion of scenes with them as puppets, when written down, might seem bonkers: but it completely works. It’s intensely satisfying to see a scene which would have been gratuitous performed with puppetry so well: even the puppet hand placements and facial movements have been directed beautifully.
The play gives us different scenes throughout their three year time at University: falling out, being angry, admitting they still fancy each other then denying it – or at least acting nonchalant. There are scenes in the Karaoke in the SU where both of them in turn are drunk, and playing drunk well is not easy as it’s so easily overdone; but these two do it so effortlessly and with superb realism. We also see flashback scenes of them as children and teenagers, we see how they have become the adults in front of us, we see their relationships with their parents and the different impact that has on both of them. The resultant inability to properly communicate what they really feel, to get caught up with who they think they should be; getting tongue tied and being defensive – is so beautifully crafted, the perfect blend of great writing and brilliant acting. The almost fish out of water feeling of leaving home for university and suddenly being expected to be an adult weaves through this so beautifully it’s almost palpable. This is so very relatable, the laughter filling the space was with recognition and remembering; while also being very poignant and wonderful.
This is a rare Brighton Fringe piece: something with a deceptively simple premise but with writing, tech, direction and acting all blending so beautifully the resulting production is very special. Considering this is Cubicle Theatre’s first venture as a team since graduating makes this all the more surprising. This play has no fat in it at all, it’s been trimmed and considered deeply and everything in it works. The scenes move at pace, are just the right length and work so well even in a non-linear narrative punctuated by hilarious in character attempts at karaoke in their student bar. Bam Sadler who writes and directs with co-director Ella Jump alongside these gifted actors have crafted something really very special. How enormously gratifying it is to know that there are new creatives of such talent just finished with training who are making new, surprising and wonderful pieces of theatre. These are definitely ones to keep an eye on for the future. And this: Karaoke At The S.U., their first piece, is thoroughly and emphatically recommended.
The Lantern Theatre, Friday 24th May 2024
Karaoke At The S.U. runs until 26th May 2024
Photos by Cubicle Theatre