Poet Philip Larkin earnt a place eternally in the hearts of many a son and daughter when he expressed perfectly the magical wonder of filial gratitude: “They fuck you up, your mum and dad.”
(More fortunate souls might relate instead to Adrian Mitchell’s parodic response “They tuck you up….”)
The idea of child-rearing is the main focus of Thomas Eccleshare’s speculative comedy.
I use the term speculative because the major conceit is that Max (Jane Wallace) and Hari (Nick Curnow) have purchased a do-it-yourself flat-pack artificially intelligent young man, Jån. Trouble is, as friends quickly notice, Jån bears an uncanny resemblance to the couples’ lost son, Nick. As parents, can Max and Hari get right what they feel they got wrong before?
I don’t have children and, when I’m in the company of anyone who does, I feel enormous admiration for the immensity of their effort and complete bewilderment at the oddness of their choice. I’m inclined to feel that child-rearing should be left to those most suited to it: wolves.
Yet, despite the emotional immaturity and self-obsession that fits me for theatre reviewing, I am aware that a large number of parents, especially middle-class ones, experience a prodigious amount of angst about their chosen role. Am I doing what’s best for my kids? And, the disturbing corollary, how do my kids reflect on me?
Eccleshare’s mischievous script offers huge comic potential, and under the direction of Hailey McQueen, the cast delivers the laughs. As robot Jån, Ben Chapple is absolutely hilarious – and, as the troubled Nick, he offers in counterpoint an honest portrayal of fickle, flawed humanity. It’s a doubling opportunity that allows an actor to show off a tremendous range and Chapple seizes it, giving a virtuoso performance.
The doubling does epitomise the piece’s greatest challenge (that is, apart from the large number of short scenes). The piece has titanic tonal ambition. A certain smallness is being satirised, that middle-class desire for control in the face of Life’s wildness, that determination to make the world one of neat, smooth, straight lines. Yet we’re also invited to care about the characters, or at least to find the genuine or the recognisable in their emotional responses. Throw into the mix that the setup is speculative – or to put it less euphemistically, untruthful – and you’ve got one provocative, audacious piece of theatre.
Paul Gilchrist
Instructions for Correct Assembly by Thomas Eccleshare
Presented by Clock and Spiel Productions
at Flight Path Theatre until 5 July
Image by Patrick Phillips
Theatre Red 