PERFORMANCE & COMEDY

Bristol Old Vic (to Sat 15 Oct)

THEATRE The powers that be at Bristol Old Vic have bravely given Natalie McGrath’s play, developed as part of BOV’s excellent artist development strand Ferment, a three-and-half week run in what, with the Main House under wraps for its refurb, is their headline venue. A vote of confidence, if ever there was one, in new writing, and a hugely encouraging sign for Bristol and the region’s mushrooming network of new writers, also currently well-served by the Alma Tavern, Tobacco Factory and elsewhere. But is this confidence, in this case, justified?

By and large, yes. McGrath’s play is undoubtedly atmospheric. It follows Ocean and Pearl (played with brilliant febrile energy by Tom Wainwright and, especially, Nadia Giscir, a name you should hold onto), teenagers scraping together a penniless, often desolate but at times uplifting existence in a fading seaside town in the late 80s. Via a few lucky turns on the fruit machines (Pearl) and something altogether more unsettling (Ocean), they are managing to drift through their days and careen semi-obliviously through their nights. They’re helped in this by a mix of chemical stimulants (“the little green men” provided by Doug, a local pusher and an increasingly sinister offstage presence) and, crucially, their strong and at times incendiary connection with each other – a union of outsiders, made most obvious by their shared language, an odd combo of mid-20C slang, 2011 estuary English and something more poetic altogether. It takes you a while to get the hang of this shared tongue, which means that the first 15 minutes of the play can seem more alienating and hard-to-grip than most, but by the end the sonorous, poetic qualities have definitely made it worth the journey.

Emily Watson Howes’ kinetic direction has the two of them haring around the stage and audience seating area – and this, if again a little bemusing and quite literally hard to follow at times, builds up a picture of this town that they know so well, that is both playground and prison. Adding a little (not too much) poise and reflection is the excellent Helena Lymbery as Falcon, the local policewoman trying to keep waifs and strays like Pearl and Ocean from coming to too much harm from the likes of Doug – and now with an unexplained death on her hands. Of the three characters, Falcon is the easiest to relate to – a lonely character who has sunk many of her frustrations and dissatisfactions into her all-encompassing career.

Slowly we realise that her interest in Pearl, in particular, extends beyond the merely pastoral, and the brief and touching union these two lost souls enjoy is a break in tempo from the mix of furious mirth and abject despair elsewhere. Elsewhere, there’s a slightly hard-to-follow plot involving a dead body washed up on the beach and Pearl and Ocean’s links with same. It’s not always as clear as it could be what’s going on, either linguistically or narratively, but all three actors inject huge energy and emotion, and the atmosphere of a down-on-its-luck seaside town – a visceral mix of melancholy and danger – is palpable. More Fermentation, please, BOV. (Steve Wright)

Copyright Steve Wright 2011