Show: Proud
Society: London (professional shows)
Venue: King's Head Theatre Pub. 115 Upper Street, London N1 1QN
Credits: By Bren Gosling. Produced by Double Telling
Type: Sardines
Author: Chris Abbott
Performance Date: 24/02/2022
Proud
Chris Abbott | 25 Feb 2022 18:05pm
I first visited the King’s Head (Pub) Theatre in 1975 to see Kennedy’s Children. It’s astonishing to realise that this small theatre at the back of a pub, which has always achieved much in a small space and with limited budgets, has such a long and illustrious history. Ahead of its planned move to a new auditorium in the development next door, the theatre is now home to a stunning production of Proud which more than lives up to expectations.
Bren Gosling’s play is based on his award-winning novel The Street Sweeper, and the origins of the piece in that medium may account for the depth of characterisation and the feeling that much more is going on here than we see in 90 minutes on stage. Roland (Taofique Folarin) has finally left his wife, moved out from under the shadow of his Pentecostal-influenced mother and is living alone and exploring his suppressed sexuality. His son, Gary (Kaine Hatukai), lives with his mother and visits his father regularly. The third character is street sweeper and Syrian refugee Amir (Andrei Maniata), who finds himself drawn to Roland but is unsure how to deal with the emotions this unleashes.
This complex web of relations is deftly sketched by the author in a series of fast-moving scenes in Roland’s flat as well as on a basketball court and at clubs and bars. With the audience on three sides, the set (Justin Nardella) hints at the basketball court with hoop and lines, and these are then lit and extended to form other locations. This compact, economical but wholly effective set is further enhanced by Ben Jacobs’ lighting and the compositions and sound design of Ákos Lustyik. The work of these three creatives deftly suggests a helicopter, various locations and key plot developments in ways that enhance and play off against the performances. It is a remarkable achievement, with Lustyik’s movement even riffing off the ringtone of a phone at one point.
Performances, too, are finely tuned and wholly convincing. Folarin is alternately confident and scared, revelling in his new-found freedom but wary of the effect it may have on his family. As his son, Hatukai may not look fifteen but convinces us that he is, through his performance; one minute needing his father’s approval and the next wanting to berate him for his failings. His musical skills also enable him to create a remarkable resolution towards the end of the play. Maniata as Amir effectively suggests the continual fear of the refugee without papers, in his case dealing not just with that situation but with tragic memories and feelings that he does not understand. The fear in his eyes is palpable, especially when he thinks he has lost his most treasured possession, and his is a subtle but endearing performance. Inevitably, the son discovers his father’s new relationship but with outcomes that may not be foreseen and which provide a satisfying resolution.
Director, Dramaturg and Producer Marlie Haco is presumably also responsible, with the athletic and energetic cast, for the highly effective movement which seems to fulfil two roles. On the one hand, the stylised movement and music indicates transitions and actions which would otherwise require lengthy dialogue and more actors; on the other, it also portrays with remarkable truthfulness and yet in a non-explicit way the love-making between the two central figures. Marlie Haco has delivered a production which is not only true to the writing but gives it vibrant theatrical life. Proud is a great example of the power of theatre in a small room, especially when cast and creatives of this calibre are involved.