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Oh, the Humanity and Other Good Intentions
Tabard Theatre
5th September 2014

★★★☆☆

What can you see when you look at people? Sometimes not much, sometimes too much. In Will Eno's Oh the Humanity and Other Good Intentions, we take a long-exposure gaze at the optimism/realism conflict in us all.

This human nature examination was first written as five semi-separate plays, each vaguely toying with the idea that people have the option to live in misery or happiness, no matter what their lot in life. Director Paul Lichtenstern has taken a lot of time and liberty to fill in the gaps between the plays with a kind of pseudo-universe, or world-between-worlds to examine humanity as a subject as well as a medium.

The ensemble of End of Moving Walkway Theatre Company

Photography supplied by End of Moving Walkway Theatre Company

This takes the form of a photographer's studio belonging to Man #2 (Guy Warren-Thomas). The white shooting space acts as the focal point of the set, and has the magical property of being able to delve deeper into a person's true character. If this sounds quite complicated, you're spot on, it is. If you like your theatre obvious, this isn't for you. However, if you love to walk out reeling from the many possible interpretations of what you've just seen, then End of Moving Walkway have created something right up your street.

The required cast of three has been expanded to nine to give each role its full due, and I would certainly agree that it has paid off. Each character's monologue is densely written and surprisingly long. Yes, actors should be able to do several, but breaking that up is going to help everyone concerned. Having said this, there isn't a lot of introduction for each character; as soon as each one steps into the "white space" at the centre of the space, they arrive fully formed, for us to decipher what we can, and for some this happens more easily than for others.

The Coach (Jonathan Kemp) is first up. At this stage, we're still trying to work out exactly what the design means, but we're in no doubt, thanks to some excellent lighting from Tom Mowat, that standing in the white area is special, and somehow more revealing. Kemp's character has had a terrible season, with his beloved team struggling. His monologue is slow, considered, but shows the emotion and disappointment shining through the carefully built cracks in his brave façade. Strangely, it seems that the dialogue finishes several times at a logical conclusion, only to be added to again and again, wearing away at the statesmanly message. We're left reflecting on the nature of despair and hope in the face of an unpromising future.

As we progress through the other stories, each of which is punctuated by another somewhat confusing interlude in the photographer's studio, we see more characters in a state of people with Other Good Intentions who are nevertheless down on their luck. These vary from the amusing Lady (Esmé Patey-Ford) and and Gentleman (Joseph Stevenson) who continue the camera-exposes-the-soul concept as they make their singles dating video, to the distressing Spokeswoman (Claire Lichie).

Lichie's performance stood out as the most brimming with sentiment, managing to let it overflow just enough to moisten our eyes. The Spokeswoman has the unenviable task of hosting a press conference for an air disaster, dealing with both upset families and demanding journalists. I especially liked the manic way she tried to cheer us up: maybe they were really happy, and luck made it so that they died at the peak of delight... Or maybe they were in loads of pain and the crash put them out of their misery... Either way, the theme continues to hit us, we had better look on the bright side, because any other side would be pretty insufferable.

A peculiar moment meets us next, as a photographer (Philip Nightingale) and his assistant (Rebecca Herod) enter, and aim their cameras squarely at the audience. Given the fourth wall is firmly in place until this happens, it comes as a shock. The paps ask us deep questions about who we are, how we are feeling and how are we portraying our feelings. This only kind of succeeds; the awkwardness is a bit too strong - some members of the audience actually moved seats to be out of range of the camera, being papped not what they signed up for when they decided to take in a show. The photograph we are told to emulate is not present; maybe if you can stop thinking about the scene and immerse yourself in it, you would find it works better. However, if you're like me, I found myself focussing too much on the reality to really let the theatrical effect take hold.

The action is disjointed, and although this is largely determined by the script, Lichtenstern battles against its nature for some congruity. He doesn't quite pull it off - having to figure out the context for the connection is not helped by figuring out the context for the scenes themselves. This is especially so in the final one involving the Man (Keith Hill) and Woman (Kaye Brown) in an imaginary car that won't start. Their performance is solid, and we are left asking ourselves the intended questions of "What is beautiful?" and left pondering what drives us, escaping despair or seeking wonder.

All in all, Oh the Humanity and Other Good Intentions manages to escape paving the road to hell, but also doesn't quite ascend to heaven. With that said, it's a bold interpretation by End of Moving Walkway which results in some thought-provoking and wonderfully framed scenes.

Oh, the Humanity and Other Good Intentions opened on 2nd September and runs until 20th September 2014 at the Tabard Theatre.

Nearest tube station: Turnham Green (District, Piccadilly)



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