Philip Ridley seems to be set on continuing a rather marvellous form in 2016. With hits like A Pitchfork Disney, Mercury Fur and The Fastest Clock in the Universe continuing to see revivals and reproductions, it is exciting to see Radiant Vermin, after a stellar 2015 debut, return to the Soho Theatre before crossing the pond to Broadway.
Indeed, Ridley’s intense lyricism was here on display once more – working alongside a fun conceptual framework to bring the expected biting social commentary throughout. The play sees a young couple, Ollie and Jill, brought into a new ‘Dream Home’ scheme – granted a new property in an up and coming area seemingly without condition. After an ill-fated encounter with a house intruder, the two realise that their house has a dark ability to grant them everything they want – if they’re ready to do what is necessary to get it.
Reading such copy may make the play sound like a satire on the nature of modern housing (particularly in a context like London), but the roots of Ridley’s script stretch far deeper than this, reaching a class and societal commentary that was almost unexpected when constructed by a small cast of three. His concept is a brutally honest one – plundering prejudices and expectations to reveal stark fallacies and realities. The class-based undertones that permeated throughout were certainly keenly felt, and what emerged by the conclusion was a thesis on modern society that was both grotesquely real and brutally honest. As much as Ollie and Jill, our two protagonists, are willing to subjugate and fundamentally murder those that they perceive as an underclass, in times of austerity, this idea is one that feels uncomfortably close – as was recently also presented in The Busker’s Opera when it debuted at the Park Theatre. Their success is our success – but for them it is literally closer to home.
The show was funny, often disconcertingly so. A lot of this humour came from the fabulous two-hander from Scarlett Alice Johnson and Sean Michael Verey, tirelessly ploughing through Ridley’s script with a frenetic physicality and poise. A lot of the fluidity that was felt in spite of such a weighty concept has to be put down to the expert direction from David Mercatali – particularly with the copious yet inventive blocking that the cast had to go through (especially in the unforgettable birthday scene, that saw Johnson and Verey playing altogether about 12 different roles between them over the space of ten minutes). Ridley did not make it easy for his performers, but they succeeded with a tantalising tenacity.
Radiant Vermin is a fierce little show – one that will certainly see a vocal reception when it goes over to the East Coast. It will be interesting to see what tone this reception takes – American society is constructed with so many differing facets that it may seem like a strange, British phenomenon rather than a commentary that is readily applicable to different nations. Nevertheless, Ridley continues to churn out fantastic and biting pieces, and for that he can only be applauded.
Radiant Vermin will be playing until May 28th.
A friend and I went to see Radiant Vermin at London’s Soho Theatre on Saturday. Today is Monday and I’m still thinking about it, talking about and laughing out loud whenever I recall certain scenes.
We risked it by sitting in the front row, at stage level. Risky because if the play was to disappoint in any way, then hiding this displeasure might have proven rather difficult. But Radiant Vermin far from disappointed, unless of course props are what you look for in a good play. The lack of props were compensated by the sharply written script, superbly executed performances, and its highly engaging and relevant subject matter.
Time Out describes it as “the extreme lengths one couple go to to escape the housing crisis”, but it is about so much more than this. Radiant Vermin unapologetically addresses everyday life in such a way that audiences can see their lives, and those of other people they know, reflected back to them. It considers such themes as class, consumption, homlessness, greed, morality, catalogue shopping, parental competitiveness, and family life as a means of legitimising “never enough” consumption. These are presented with pacey humour and a skillful satire that not only allows the audience to relate, but leaves them wanting more.
One such scene is the party scene, made remarkable not only for its writing and acting creativity, but also because of its faultless representation of competing parents. Competitiveness here manifests itself in which of the invited guest’s presents for one-year-old birthday baby, takes top prize for most ostentatiously expensive and least practical.
It is hilarious, sad, thought-provoking and so relevant to now.
Our decision to sit in the front row was a brilliant one. It allowed for a real closeness to the story and the characters. A closeness that doesn’t come cheap at larger class-segregation-through-seat-allocation theatres.