August has been a post-graduation whirl in which I attempt to make the most of the culture that London has to offer before I start the full-time position of adult and begin my career. One piece of theatre I saw particularly struck me: Rotterdam, playing at Trafalgar Studios Two until August 27th.
Written by: Jon Brittain
Directed by: Donnacadh O'Briain
By the ripe old age of 21, I can safely say that I have seen enough theatre to have a fairly adept understanding of the art form (or at least a strong appreciation for it). I’ve queued for eight hours to get tickets to Hamlet; seen a play a day during one bout of interning; and spent more than my fair share of time perusing TheatreMonkey. Bearing this in mind, a play has never affected me more than Jon Brittain’s Rotterdam. I haven’t been able to get it out of my mind - a side effect of theatre that I’ve not experienced before. For a fairly niche play, performed in the gloriously intimate space of Trafalgar Studios Two (which added to the feeling that you were an onlooker in the characters’ lives), this is high praise indeed. The play explores the relationship of lesbian couple Alice and Fiona, and their struggles with love and identity after Fiona reveals he is a transgender man who will begin to live as Adrian.
I saw the play a few days after seeing Unreachable, starring the effervescent Matt Smith, at the Royal Court Theatre, and this provided me with an excellent insight into what exactly made the former so much more memorable than the latter (although Unreachable was undoubtedly wonderful in its own way). Both plays find themselves towing the fine line between comedy and seriousness, but the farcical aspects of Unreachable fail to hit the same note that Rotterdam’s humour does. Rotterdam's comedy only seeks to heighten the sense of light and shade inherent in everyday life, whereas the poignant moments and ultimately surreal nature of Unreachable are somewhat undermined by the pantomime-esque aspect of characters like The Brute, which doesn't quite gel with the rest of the play. Of course, plays aren't all meant to be true-to-life in the way that Brittain's play so clearly is, but there is a fine line between using humour as a vehicle to drive the plot forward and finding that it holds it back. Unreachable was rip-roaringly funny, whereas the comedy in Rotterdam felt subtle, gentle, sensitive even, comprised of sarcastic one-liners and relateable misunderstandings - it created piquancies in between the hard-hitting, devastating moments played out on stage.
It wasn’t just the comic aspect of Rotterdam that engaged me, however. The characters are believably flawed, and those who surround Alice and Adrian compellingly reveal the hidden traits and desires of the pair. The contrast between the way Fiona/Adrian puts no pressure on Alice to send an email in which she comes out to her parents, and Alice's Dutch co-worker Lelani’s actions later in the play (her devil-may-care attitude engagingly portrayed by Jessica Clark), highlights the nuances of their relationships. The connection between Alice and her ex-boyfriend, played marvellously by Ed Eales-White, is also used to great effect, revealing Alice's true feelings to the audience before even she recognises them.
Alice McCarthy convincingly presents Alice's anguish as she wonders whether her identity as a lesbian is put into question by Adrian's revelation, struggling with the need to stay true to herself. The acting was particularly taken to new heights by the bewitching Anna Martine as Fiona/Adrian, and I found it nearly impossible to take my eyes off her. I dare say there was a dry eye in the house after witnessing Adrian’s desperate attempt to change in order to earn Alice's love, and the hopeful uncertainty in the moving final scene.
Alice McCarthy convincingly presents Alice's anguish as she wonders whether her identity as a lesbian is put into question by Adrian's revelation, struggling with the need to stay true to herself. The acting was particularly taken to new heights by the bewitching Anna Martine as Fiona/Adrian, and I found it nearly impossible to take my eyes off her. I dare say there was a dry eye in the house after witnessing Adrian’s desperate attempt to change in order to earn Alice's love, and the hopeful uncertainty in the moving final scene.
The production is also carefully crafted, from the fluid scene changes in which the characters continue to interact with their surroundings, to the musical backdrop replete with Euro-pop which furthers the idea that Rotterdam is a transitory space for the expats, cleverly reflecting the characters’ states of being. What's more, the soundtrack reawakened my love of Robyn - find the playlist curated by musical director Keegan Curran below to see what I am talking about!
This is, of course, not to say that the play is perfect. There are moments which deteriorate into angry, shouty, Tumblr-esque social justice monologues, and some of the acting becomes perhaps too physical as emotions run high, producing a quite literally shaky performance. But the very fact that the actors can competently convey the importance of LGBTQIA+ issues in theatre (rare enough in itself), heartbreakingly and, most importantly, with enough depth and sensitivity to make the audience question their thoughts on gender and sexuality, is more than enough reason to watch it. Adrian notes that there was no lightbulb moment in which he realised he was transgender, but whilst watching the play I had my own lightbulb moment - I was witnessing something truly special. I, for one, will be seeing this play again before its run ends, and I suggest you do the same.
5 minutes with: Anna Martine
Students can get tickets to Rotterdam for £16 with PROMPT!
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