Neil LaBute is one of America’s most provocative and interesting playwrights. His best-known work, The Shape of Things, was made into a movie starring Rachel Weisz and Paul Rudd. America the Beautiful consists of nine plays in three chapters, the first two of which are being staged at King’s Head, the third at the Greenwich Theatre. This complex arrangement sends a signal that LaBute is a mercurial and elusive artist whose fans must chase across London to savour the full richness of his talent.
The lesbian stares and leers aggressively while her victim cowers and bleats in protest
The first show, Chapter 1, consists of three unconnected skits about sexual jealousy. In ‘Kandahar’, a cuckolded soldier explains why he took revenge after learning that his wife had cheated with a comrade. How did he find out? Well, his brother-in-arms showed him a computer containing his wife’s disloyal emails. A rather simplistic plot device. Lazy even. The references to Afghanistan feel dated and the soldier comes across as defensive, arrogant and downright nasty. Not a shred of warmth here.
‘The Possible’ is an absurdist drama about a predatory lesbian who seduces a man and spends the night with him in a hotel. Later she shows the hotel receipts to the man’s girlfriend who reacts with shock and dismay. The lesbian pounces. Her plan is to seduce the girlfriend by destroying her relationship with the man. Will she succeed? The set-up is crazy enough to be interesting but the drama needs more room to breathe. The two women (Maya-Nika Bewley and Anna Maria) circle each other warily as they deliver pages of dialogue that explain the improbable back story. And they barely move from their opening positions. The lesbian stares and leers aggressively while her victim cowers and bleats in protest. Both the female characters sound like men sparring for dominance.
In ‘Hate Crime’, two male lovers discuss a murder plot that may rank as the stupidest conspiracy in history. Their target is a gay millionaire who is about to marry one of the plotters. As soon as the wedding is over, the second plotter will burst out of a dark alley and beat the man to a pulp. After his death, his legacy will be shared by the plotters who intend to set up home together. They assume that the bungling cops will omit to question them or to spot any connection between themselves and the murder victim. Characters who operate at this level of ineptitude are very hard to sympathise with. And the dialogue is shot through with anti-gay insults which announce that the characters are secretly ashamed of their sexuality. Pretty unsubtle. The production is marred by a cumbersome set that consists of black cubes and misshapen boxes piled randomly at the rear of the stage. The performers seem to be acting in a store cupboard.
The budget for Southwark Playhouse’s new show stretches to adverts on the Tube. They don’t come cheap. It Walks Around the House at Night concerns a mysterious gay aristocrat, David Linden, who decides to subject his two nieces, aged seven and eight, to a spell of emotional torture. Having invited them to his stately home, he hires a jobless actor, Joe, to dress as a Victorian ghost and terrify the little girls. Joe sees no harm in this cruel prank and he accepts the job because he hopes to seduce David.
Joe, who narrates the story, keeps rabbiting on about unrelated topics like his old boyfriend, Rufus, and his annoying lesbian boss, Gabby, who runs the café where he works. He spends very little time dressed as a ghost because he keeps receiving new information from Gabby and her lover who send him daily updates about the story.
It’s unclear why this pamphleteering drivel is being presented as a ghost story
Joe realises that David’s nieces don’t exist and he begins to suspect that the house itself may be an apparition. The paranormal plot is so convoluted that it has to be explained in a long voice-over delivered by a character called Old Man. This quavering pensioner gabbles away for ages and ages but adds nothing of value, and eventually his mike gets cut off. Thank God for that.
The show needs a simpler storyline and a larger cast. George Naylor has to play Joe, David, Gabby, Rufus and others. On stage he’s supported by Oliver Baines, as the Dancer, who says nothing at all and performs a few perfunctory ballet moves. Eventually the show reaches an overblown conclusion that makes little sense.
As a ghost story, the production works well enough by using strobe lighting and loud explosions that make you jump out of your seat. The true focus here is politics. Joe preaches that ordinary folk are the victims of posh wealthy types like Rufus and David. The rich are ‘bastards’, he says, who deserve to be punished for owning large houses. It’s unclear why this pamphleteering drivel is being presented as a ghost story. The owners of the Tube appear to like it.
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