Review: NUCLEAR WAR, Royal Court

With posturing in the Korean peninsula putting the dread words "THERMONUCLEAR WAR" back on to front pages, it's timely for the Royal Court, always a venue which has a finger on the pulse, to stage Simon Stephens' "play" Nuclear War. That said, there's little of geopolitical concerns in the piece - at least not on its surface.

In a large square space that has the air if not all of the accoutrements of a living room, we observe an unnamed woman (Maureen Beattie) dress and pour herself tea as a voiceover (sounding a little like Patrick Allen's intro to Frankie Goes To Hollywood's "Two Tribes") warns us of the universe's eventual heat death, as time marches inexorably forward, obliging us to keep step as we approach that distant cliff edge.

Soon I was thinking more of the dystopian novels of JG Ballard or the zombie movies of George A. Romero, as attention shifts to the alienation engendered by urban (more accurately, suburban) life, with its assailing of the senses by messages to buy, consume and live through the ideas of others. The four other actors on stage become more involved, as typically silent commuters on a tube train or as outward manifestations of the woman's disorientation.

There are references to a medical incident (the loss of a husband?) seven years ago and domestic scenes are created and smashed up as the four actors now circle the woman running , the world now both speeding up, but imprisoning her still more, the music ever more dissonant, the lyrics sung earlier of family life long forgotten. (None of the music - by Elizabeth Bernholz - quite captured the energy and threat of Georgy Sviridov's extraordinary "Time, Forward!" which I had playing a little in my mind as the show progressed).

And then it finishes.

I did describe the work as a "play" above for the sake of brevity, but it's much more a slice of performance art, created by the company to whom the writer gives explicit license to choose which of his words to speak and which to ignore. Choreographer / Director Imogen Knight is equally influential in creating meaning through something that owes much to contemporary dance, but often is more static and menacing, cinematic even.

I guess my feelings about the work can be summarised in the fact that the play's text is proceeded by the author's introduction, and that is the longer of the two chapters. While I acknowledge that words are specifically not privileged over music, movement, dance etc in this work, I longed for something to hold on to, something to ground the production in my mind - it never came. It may sound a little feeble on my behalf, but I don't think the show should be quite as difficult as it is.

Nuclear War continues at the Royal Court until 6 May.

Photo Chloe Lamford

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