A chilling call to action from Fringe veteran Chris Thorpe
There are nine countries in the world with nuclear weapons. And at any second, any one of them could press a button that would put an immediate and catastrophic end to life as we know it. Armed with just a laptop, a projector, a kettle, and some biscuits, Fringe veteran Chris Thorpe faces this reality head-on, and takes us along for the ride.
Over the course of an hour and a half, Thorpe tells us about a chance meeting with Veronique Christory, UN Arms Advisor and anti-nuclear campaigner, and the journey it led him on. Using a quiz, Google Maps, YouTube, a piano, Zoom, and a website called NukeMap, the performer explains the current status of nuclear weapons across the world, both in numbers and in real life scenarios. It’s very educational, but never not grounded in how this could happen right here, right now - at one point Thorpe goes through the precise numbers and methods of death if a nuclear weapon were dropped on the Royal Court at that moment.
For a show about global disaster, Talking About the Fire really centres the idea of normality. As audience members trickle in, Thorpe collects song recommendations, playing each one via Spotify on his laptop. He asks people their names, chats to them about their day. Eleanor Field's set, complete with ugly patterned rug and yellow lamp, feels like a cosy living room. Throughout the show, the performer has the air of a sweary but friendly uncle, handing out biscuits and making small talk. Rather than making a piece of theatre in the traditional sense, the show is a conversation with the audience. Always lurking, however, is the very real threat of nuclear destruction, on the brink of destroying anything even close to ‘normal’.
There may not be any gore or jumpscares, but Talking About the Fire is undeniably a very scary show. What makes it so chilling is the way Thorpe’s words are constantly rooted in reality, making it closer to a creative lecture than a play in the conventional sense. There’s no illusion here, no acting really - Thorpe is playing himself, and everything he says is true. It’s precisely the feeling of community and comfort in the room that makes the horror of what Thorpe is describing so powerful.
At times, watching the performer switch between tabs on his laptop and fiddle around with Zoom feels a little like watching a substitute teacher at school trying to figure out what they’re doing. In reality, though, everything he does is intentional, competent, and vital to the show. Thorpe reorients us with daily life, as audience members talk about their favourite bars and green spaces, before telling us exactly how it could be vaporised in seconds.
Director Claire O’Reilly takes this from just a call to action to one that’s also engaging to watch for 90 minutes, at once purposeful and choreographed while still feeling natural. Lighting designer Arnim Friess subtly darkens the stage to great effect, turning the lights all the way down only when it will have the most impact. For a show that feels like it could almost be spontaneous, it’s nonetheless clear that every element of this production has been meticulously thought through. The final segment feels like it doesn't quite land as much as it could have, and there are earlier moments that feel like a more fitting ending to the piece, but the overall impact remains very much there.
It feels strange to review Talking About the Fire as a stage show, and even stranger to give it a star rating. That’s not what this is. Thorpe instead gives us a genre-defining piece of activist theatre; a call to arms, or rather to disarmament, against what could otherwise be an inevitable apocalypse.
Talking About the Fire runs at The Royal Court Theatre (Jerwood Upstairs) until 16 December
Image Credits: Arnim Freiss
Videos