Right Now - Wrong on So Many Levels
Penny Flood is unimpressed by the Bush's production of French -Canadian play
This work is a pairing of psychological drama with sex comedy only to fall at both fences. For comedy to work the characters have to be believable, none of these characters has that quality, they are all caricatures, and none of the situations are funny. For psychological drama to work the audience has to have an insight into the hearts of minds of the characters to understand them and why they're the way they are. That just doesn't happen here.
It starts promisingly enough, Alice (Lindsay Campbell) is on the verge of a breakdown, haunted by the cries of her dead baby. Her husband Ben (Sean Biggerstaff) is doing his best to help her, but he's not doing very well. Then enter the sex-obsessed neighbours; Gilles (Guy Wlliams), Juliette (|Maureen Beattie) with their disturbed, self-harming son Francois (Dyfan Dwyfor), and it all becomes ridiculous.
After some rather unpleasant interaction, Gilles rapes Alice on the kitchen table, transforming her from a damaged, scared young woman to a vamp. And although it's all happening under Ben's nose, he doesn't notice because, after putting his head up Juliette's skirt to see what colour her knickers are, he's regressed to childhood, sucking his thumb and crying while she comforts him.
And so it lumbers on in its tasteless, humourless way, lubricated by red wine and innuendo. Any attempt at analysis and understanding, which could have been expected at the start, having been throw out the window. Rather offensively, it appears that whatever the question the answer for Alice is sex, consensual or not.
Suddenly and inexplicably, Ben goes away with Juliette
and Gilles leaving Alice with Francois with whom she has lots more sex. By this time, Francois has got over himself and become normal so it seems that sex is the answer for a disturbed young man as well. Cue more baby crying, but this time Francois can hear it so he goes off to return with a real baby. So cute, that was the best bit of the whole thing.
Mercifully it only lasted 80 minutes but it's 80 minutes of my life I'll never get back.
Right Now continues at the Bush Theatre until April 16. Book tickets online or call the box office on 020 8743 5050.
April 1, 2016
