Encompass Productions is based in London, and, like all other companies, normally produce work on stage, live, in front of audiences. We seem slowly to be returning to that - and hopefully it won't be long before things are fully up and running again - but in the meantime, many companies have turned their attention to the digital / computer age in which we live as a means of continuing to produce and transmit theatre to us all. It's a hugely noble and noteworthy endeavor, and most companies are doing so in order, like Encompass, to ask for a small donation so that the company survives the lockdown and comes out the other end. Perhaps because I have now watched so much online material, I have now arrived at the point where I no longer get any thrill at all by sitting in front of a computer screen watching essentially theatrical performances in a film medium. Also, the quality of both technology and performance has varied drastically from barely watchable to ultra-professional, and so am now also somewhat wary about what I choose to watch online.
Encompass Productions' online playlets and monologues are always enjoyable though; and despite the company giving the directors and performers no financial help to produce their shorts, they still manage to bring a certain quality and professionalism from the choice of setting / background, to what they wear and any props etc. All of these, due to our coronavirus circumstances must have been provided for by the performers themselves from their own homes.
The four productions on offer in the third of their lockdown series Bare E-ssentials (note the obvious pun in the title from their normal Essentials!) were a very mixed bag, comprising two monologues and two duologues. I have to say though that the order in which they were shown was well-considered as they did indeed get better as they went along.
We started with a rather too long duologue called 'Rules' by Lucy Jamieson. In it we see two best friends chatting candidly about their sex life, STDs, and the possibility that one of them has caught chlamydia from the other's brother! It should have been sharp, snappy and humorous; a slice of realism, hedonistic 20-something lifestyle, but instead the narrative became entrenched with detail, unnecessary lines and no real tag-line to finish. It was a nice idea, but would have greatly benefitted from a dramaturge's eye-casting.
Following this was 'Stones Around My Neck', the first of two monologues, this one written by Emma Dawson, and performed by Deborah Garvey. An up-tight, prim upper-middle-class lady who continually worries, forces herself to come to terms with the less-than-perfect doings of her husband and her daughters. Performed in a very 'Talking Heads' style, the monologue became progressively darker and was handled nicely by both director and actress.
The most comedic of the four came next, with 'The Chair' by James C Ferguson. The humour was a times very American - no kidding right? it was written by an Amercan! - but was hugely surreal, along the lines of those 1950's sci-fi horror B-movies, whereby the chair is an alien and has eaten the guests! There's a great turnaround at the end, and it's a nicely written piece sensibly handled.
For me though, the final piece of the evening was the most satisfying. A monologue written by Jacquie Penrose and called, 'Listen', this was a dark, heartfelt, and very moving piece about love, and about highly possessive / mispaced jealousy. This kind of 'control' behaviour is well documented when a young man treats their girlfriend or fiancee in such a manner, however, here a very interesting twist was given as it was the female who was spying, prying and trying to control and be overly possessive. The lighting and style of delivery including a slightly pixelated quality of video was also exceptionally well thought through as it added an extra dimension to an already tight script. This script too has a kind of horror B-movie quality to it, as well as a hint of Noir. But it is Amelia Perillon's superb delivery combined with Liam Fleming's sensitive direction which makes this paranoia-filled script breathe so much life.
Reviewer - Alastair Zyggu
on - 29/7/20
