Eight twentysomethings get through lockdown
It was both a collective and individual experience, in the sense that it happened to us all, but it happened differently for each person. Like others I suspect, your reviewer struggles to recall the detail. How many of them were there? Were they all in 2020 or some in 2021? What did I actually do to pass the time?
What I do know is that it was a lot easier for me than it was for many others, especially young people who bore the brunt of the restrictions whilst carrying the least risk of serious consequences from infection. Though you're unlikely to hear much gratitude voiced in public, I know my sons personally, and their generation as a whole, paid a heavy price in terms of lost time to protect people like me.
Some of that context comes through in Jules Chan's Days In Quarantine, one of theatre's first direct responses to the pandemic and admirable for that. It follows eight twentysomethings as they clap for the NHS and watch the news, drift apart and come together, despair and rejoice. Told in a series of short, sometimes overlapping scenes; we get to know characters, see their responses to personal and public events and recall snippets from our own times spent inside.
The young ensemble cast quickly sketch the men and women they play and then we watch them grow over time. Marlene Del Bello and Leo Anthonio conduct a sweet, slow romance; Esme Hough and Jordan Bangura go the other way, splitting apart ever more rapidly as confinement pushes more distance between them; Jules Chan and Matthew George Williams find their cultural identities sharpened, for better and for worse; Taz Munyaneza and Sam Cordwell Roberts have parents whom they miss and cannot visit.
Keeping so many balls in the air proves too much at times and the running time of 105 minutes without an interval is too long to avoid repetition setting in, even with a couple of brief sections of movement and dance. Situations that were tightly focused and specific drift into more generic debates about racism and class, love stories become predictable when they surprise and fellowship comes only late to those most in need of it. As is so often the case, one feels that there's a tighter, sharper play inside this one, 30 minutes or so shorter.
That said, if you don't mind a bit of soap opera shouting (the hard surfaces of a small venue really give the ears a battering at times), there's plenty to reflect upon in this play - especially if (or, perhaps, when) another virus or another variant comes amongst us and the balance between collective responsibility and individual freedoms needs to be struck again.
Days of Quarantine is at the White Bear Theatre until 22 November
Photo Credit: Lidia Crisafulli
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