Director Ben Cawood makes exemplary use of Peter Shaffer’s script in Pitch Productions adaptation of two 1960s plays, White Liars and Black Comedy. The clever pairing of the two one-act plays into a two-act production interestingly highlights the reciprocity of tragedy and comedy in moments of lies and hidden truths. The characters preoccupation with appearing to be of a class that they are not lead to disastrous consequences, with audiences encouraged to laugh while reflecting on the superficiality and destructive nature of the British class system.
As the title suggests, White Lies, the first act of the production delves into the small, seemingly inconsequential lies we tell others (and ourselves) – what drives you to tell them, the repercussions when they come crumbling down around you, and how they eat away at your identity. They may be ‘white’ lies, but this does not mean that they do not have disastrous effects on the character’s sense of self and relationships with others. It is an act focused around only three characters and their internal state – ‘Baroness’ Sophie, a German fortune teller (Emilia Lewis) and two friends Tom (Oreofe Subair) and Frank (Jamie Strand) who come (at least in the pretence) of having their fortunes read. And yet, it is this first act which contains the most powerful moments of the production.
Emilia Lewis’s portrayal of Sophie is both convincingly neurotic and sympathetic, as she brings an equal share of comedy and sadness to the character. The moments in which she imagines conversing with her ex-lover, Vassi, quickly turn from being disturbingly amusing to desolate. Sophie is far more than a character to laugh at as the audience sees the effects of a life of isolation and debilitating insecurity on an older woman – her life has not been what she expected, in large due to her desire to believe her own lies. The use of lighting in these scenes is also commendable, with a spotlight pulsing on the chair opposite to Sophie whenever she imagined a conversation with her past lover, highlighting her own engrossment in her imagined reality. She knows he is not there but cannot escape his past words – her life centres around Vassi, or rather the lack of him.
While Sophie in White Lies may find herself a relic of the past, lamenting the growing technology of the 1960s, it is interesting that the youth of the second act, Black Comedy, similarly find themselves entangled in their own lies. Time may move on, but humanity remain the same – each caught up in and obsessed with how they present themselves to others. The play begins with artist Brindsley Miller and his fiancé Carol Melkett (Emilia Lewis) having stolen furniture from a more affluent neighbour to impress Carol’s father (Oreofe Subair) and millionaire, Georg Bamberger (Ben Cawood). Disaster strikes however, with a fuse being blown and the flat being plunged into darkness. The inversion of lighting is interesting done – the audience may see the stage when the characters may not, and vice versa leading to the need to use imagination.
Director Ben Cawood describes the characters ‘grop[ing] around on stage’, and I cannot think of a more fitting word choice with the comedy of the play relying on sex jokes and suggestive physical movements. While, the play may be focused on this slapstick comedy, it at times becomes somewhat repetitive and loses its charms, drawing away from the more positive aspects of the performance. This is perhaps a production which would have been benefited by a reversal in the performance order, with Black Comedy being the opening act of the play, and White Lies later undercutting the more slapstick humour with its darker themes and depiction of instability. Still, the second half still has shining moments, with the side characters offering a welcome respite, through the timidity of Miss Furnivall (Ella Beresford) and the conceited Harold Gorringe (Joshua Brooks) who bring humour which relies on more than just physical comedy. Black Comedy, remains fun, scandalous and plays with heteronormative sexuality with a certain ambivalence which leaves the audience always feeling as if there is more to be exposed. Ultimately, despite its drawbacks and occasional prolonged jokes, it remains an engaging second act.
Overall, these two plays work fantastically alongside each other, showing humorous and often touching evaluations of individuals’ identities when dealing with the repercussions of their lies and deception. The cast’s strong performances, particularly that of Emilia Lewis as Sophie, combined with the production team’s creative use of lighting ensures an entertaining and thought-provoking work of comedy. We may laugh at the situations that these characters find themselves in, but perhaps more importantly we are confronted with characters in turmoil over their own vanity and insecurity. Pitch Production has delivered a comedy which may entertains, but perhaps more importantly also allows audience members to reflect on their own behaviours and self-worth.
Image by Isabelle Bylett