verbatim | Get Your Coats On

“You can almost smell the emotion”

Cyprus. A country torn apart by colonisation, occupation and civil war throughout the 20th Century – the repercussions of which are still deeply felt by its people today. The aptly titled Forbidden Stories is part documentary, part theatre piece bringing new life into the previously untold stories of many of those affected by the political situation on the island over the last 50 or so years.

The stories presented are an equally heart-wrenching and heart-warming collection, with comical, childish moments positioned alongside angry, confused and overjoyed perspectives from all sides of the conflict, dating from the 1960s until the early 2000s. And as a collection it feels like a fair representation of the truth, without ever swaying towards bias for any group or individual.

Much of the staging is basic, reflecting the sense of people at a loss with minimal possessions, and while the presentation in this performance sometimes verges on feeling a bit too low-budget and ill-conceived, the power from this piece comes from the delivery of the stories by the ensemble. Given the strength of the multi-talented and multinational cast, the sense of individual voices comes powering through – you can almost smell the emotion of families being forced to leave their homes or being reunited with their communities, thanks to the subtlety of the acting and deep personal connection with the text. At times it’s almost impossible to consider that they are indeed actors sharing someone else’s words rather than their own experiences.

Yet what a strictly Verbatim-style piece brings an emotional honesty, it can lack in cohesion and narrative, so while there is much insight to be gained from each story, the piece as a whole feels very fragmented, and some of the stories a little hard to follow. What’s disappointing from a theatrical angle is not being able to see individual stories and characters evolve over the duration of the piece to create more narrative drive – I really wanted several of the characters presented to come back and share more of their journey to bring a greater sense of resolution – though the chronological structure of the piece does go some way to completing this loop.

As an educational documentary production, Forbidden Stories is a unique and personal way to learn about the history of Cyprus from the people who lived through it, and it really hits the mark in that respect. As a theatrical performance in its own right, it feels somewhat unfinished and rough around the edges, but still very much worth watching.

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Reviewer: Steve Griffin (Seen 17 May)

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THIS REVIEW HAS NOT BEEN SUBEDITED

“I hope Theatre for Justice are back soon with the next instalment”

Editorial Rating: 4 Stars

I’ll admit that before this show I had no idea where Eritrea was, and I wasn’t even sure how to spell it. I knew nothing of the religious persecution going on in the country or the hundreds of people who flee it every day. For these insights alone Still Here is worth watching. Yet while being a “worthy” piece of theatre, it never veers into being preachy: rather, it is a simple account of one student’s (Rachel Partington’s) trip to a refugee camp and the people she met there. It’s honest, frank and – I hate to use such a word to describe theatre – interesting.

With tickets checked by border control officials, a mismatching array of seats (including deck chairs) for the audience, and performed in a tent outside a church far from the central hub of normal Fringe venues, Still Here goes to great lengths to create an authentic experience that is central to its overall aims. The show opens with the two main characters telling interweaving stories of their journeys to Calais – six hours for the interviewer, and six years for the refugee. It’s a great way to set the contrasts for the piece, and is creatively staged to give it interest.

Actors Afolabi Alli and Rachel Partington both do an outstanding job with clear, engaging performances that strike the perfect balance between honesty and theatricality. They bring a real fresh-faced look to an age-old problem and their vitality makes them a joy to watch.

Water is used creatively throughout, from sound effects to projections, and it’s great to see this young company using intelligent recurring motifs within their work. Other props are fairly minimal, as the performance uses a more physical and human approach to its storytelling – again a sympathetic match with the subject material. More powerful is the use of a child’s puppet, whose unspoken presence towards the end of the piece is made even more stark when Partington utters the words “I can’t help. I can’t do anything to help.” Stirring stuff.

Yet while everything in the performance is done very well, content-wise it is somewhat lacking. Largely centred around just one 15 minute interview with a single refugee, it’s disappointing that as a production it seems a little unfinished, with so much more potential to create a really powerful and inspiring show with more depth to it. It’s a great first chapter, and I hope Theatre for Justice are back soon with the next instalment.

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Reviewer: Steve Griffin (Seen 15 August)

THIS REVIEW HAS NOT BEEN SUBEDITED