Ulster American hits Bedlam in punches, some bigger than others. From its bounding humour to its uptight dialogue blending seamlessly with bouts of discussion of religion and gender — Emily Sharp’s team brings high-tension drama in bucketloads.
This is terrifying drama, and a physical one too — thanks to Sharp’s sublime casting, and a gift of characters from David Ireland. Such figures manipulated each other, pushed at loggerheads furiously in this thriller as a playwright, actor and director battle with each other. Truth consumes this production; what is authentic as an actor, and what is authentic in real world events.
The magnitude of this play, however, seems to outgrow the set it is placed in, its direction and the set design. As actors leap across the space, and Bedlam becomes bedlam, blocking seems slightly repetitive. The feeble window at the back of the space lacks involvement in the piece as a whole and furniture does feel clumsily placed onstage. More variation could have really increased the dynamism of the production.
Spicing up the production is the male voice, powerfully attacking the one woman who provides the only sense of stability for the piece. Ruth Davenport(the author of the play), portrayed by Connie Bailie, rebounds off the other actors, her presence commandeering and her every move hypnotic. She dials up the action every second she is onstage, which forces the production to reach its delectable climax. She is far from ‘fragile’, as proclaimed by other characters. Harp should be credited for giving Bailie the grounds to skulk silently with control and vigour, beckoning tension in this production
Dylan Kaeuper (playing Jay Conway) is Ulster American’s figurehead — this young actor slips around the space like liquid gold, just like his arrogant character. Slick, frenetic and unwavering in his approach, Kaeupur does not tread the boards, but prances. Combined with Emily Sharp’s well-measured stage pictures, Kaeuper becomes a necessary slap in the face: his direct address exemplifying his character’s power and lining up beautiful sequences of dark humour.
While sometimes other chaotic humour comes so thick and fast it is overwhelming, the production’s less physical comedy hits the spot undoubtedly. Will Grice, portraying Leigh Carver — the mediating director — falls into minor too often, upstaging himself slightly. But he is perfectly troubled and torn, committing to this challenging role with gusto.
This show is aptly chaotically framed but intelligently directed. As the actors exclaim “the only thing I want to hear from a critic is a suicide note,” a certain guilt but also excitement washes over me as this show fundamentally tests the impact of theatre in the modern world.
Production photo by Emily Sharp (@emilyrosesharp on Instagram)
