The Sea, Tom Froy, Camden People’s Theatre

The Sea, Tom Froy, Camden People’s Theatre, 01/03/2018

Hark! It’s March! And there is a freak snow, ‘the beast from the east’. One might consider this the perfect opportunity to relax and snuggle at home. However, we Lasses (on press duties) ventured out to the Camden People’s Theatre to review Tom Froy’s ‘The Sea’. Advertised as a piece about loneliness in the big city, our expectations were set at a fair rate, considering our experiences two and a half years ago as newbies to the Capital.

Having chatted prior to the performance, I glean that from my limited knowledge of the playwright, it felt like a semi-biographical piece about ones experience of London as a young adult – understanding Tom is a country mouse thrust into the hustle and bustle of the big city – shown by the consistent relation to green spaces (namely Hackney Marshes).

I gather this to be a play about solitude, rather than loneliness – two social statuses that I believe to be similar, but quite different. To define loneliness I would demand a single character reflecting significantly on their status as a lonely individual, incapable of creating relations, making new friends. Rather, I feel this piece exhibits a character who appears to experience lonely episodes – including following someone home which is quite frankly really creepy. If the intention was romanticism I do see it’s aim – however when exhibiting work that is based on behaviours crafted from an interpersonal perspective I still feel one must be as careful as possible when presenting such dangerous habits in a romantic frame. The presentation of this did make me as an audience member feel uncomfortable.

You can tell it’s written by a philosophy student – whose taste in music is excellent, but in some points quite unnecessary. The work was supported by a wonderfully talented actress who carried most of the play as a solo performance – particularly the first act. She deserves as much credit as one can give!

So, to summarise, Tom Froy has so much promise as a playwright but this defiantly feels like an early career play; one that with workshops and development could be fantastic. As it stands it is entertaining and provocative but it could be enhanced by a variety of voices being shown. Perhaps from collaboration – verbatim could be wholesome in this narrative!


2018: welcome back


and the award for worst blogger of the year goes to… me.


2018: we’re here and we dived in head first. So where to begin: this is the year we graduate. This is the year we’re thrown into the world like fully-fledged adults, doing adult things like paying council tax and desperately seeking employment. However, it’s not all doom and gloom. This is the year we saw…


Hamilton. We waited a full 361 days to see this (from ticket purchase). And it was worth every second. Production wise, it was everything I had spent the past year hoping to expect. A clever, multi-purpose set, a cast of actors who were simply living their best lives performing the score, a packed house of people who all wanted to be there. How refreshing. You entered and left the theatre with a deep rooted, gut wrenching sensation of revolution – that we can make change happen today. The Schuyler sisters were lucky to be alive in 1780, we are lucky to be in 2018. An exhausting watch, emotionally, as you’re pushed from pillar to post embracing the heartbreak of nearly every character and revelling in the drama and tension of the politics. It feels like the perfect time for this show to adorn the stage, given the global political climate. What an inspiring way to start this year.


So we saw Hamilton, then we got busy. Uni has started and we are head first in dissertations and show-creating.


So, (shamefully) my second show of the year landed at the end of January, and that was Pinocchio at the National (Lyttleton). As I am currently making a piece of children’s theatre, the only sensible thing to do was to hop onto entry pass and grab a ticket. Pinocchio is most famous for it’s adaptation as a Disney animation, which I cannot watch through since the character of the Fox gives me flashbacks to terror as a child. So, whilst expecting a beautiful piece of theatre, a lot of cheek chewing was undertaken. The show was magical. Magic tricks were shown which are worthy of making children (and grown ups) believe in the magic of theatre. The songs and the set and the worlds were all elevated by the shows sense of self – with giant puppets bigger than a house and no expense spared in the set, it was the winter time extravanagsa one wishes for all year round. It was inspiring and heart warming, and there was a colouring book in the programme. Score.


So next up, came today. I ventured out of zone 1, into Islington to the Little Angel Studio to see some French, surrealistic, non-verbal theatre. Ciel (or Heaven) Magritte followed the French artist get lost in his own work. The show was certainly conceptual and visually intriguing, easy to follow but it did feel like I should have done my homework prior to the show. There was mime, bowler hats and may other French things. Except from snails. I’ll keep this review short and sweet for a short and sweet show. I just wish it had relished more in it’s French-ness.


So what comes next?


No, not her writing, her show!

It’s so exciting – she’s having a show produced at the National Archives, tomorrow! I wish her the best of luck and I’m sure she will be highly anticipating a first class review, from myself.


So signing off for now,