The Get Together - Review

Sherman Cymru, Cardiff

Wed 23 May

★★★☆☆

Four friends gather at an old Cardiff haunt but they no longer quite fit together – life and choices have taken them in different directions, and those choices colour their views of the others. As this night unfolds anything is possible. In fact, “Laughter, betrayal and blood” is not the slightest bit metaphorical in describing The Get Together, as past mistakes are dragged into the open, knitting needles are brandished and laughter flows with easy grace as memories are shared and alcohol loosens opinionated tongues.

Part of Sherman Cymru’s RAW initiative, the piece was produced under the more thrills than frills style where the writing and talent take centre stage. Written by Corrie writer Simon Crowther, crammed full of pathos and moments of cathartic humour the narrative is strong and the comic one liner’s are honed to perfection. True to its roots of the ‘local’ pub the language is colourful, heated and utterly straightforward. With some brilliantly talented Cardiff voices on stage, the scene is set. Descriptions of the area put you in mind of the Vulcan, a historic Cardiff pub that struggled with the threat of closure before it finally closed its doors earlier this month. With aged wooden chairs as seating, the audience are there with the cast as the purveyors of gossip and drinking. The set itself is a solitary table and multiple chairs with ancient Christmas decorations still up weeks after and the well-used Juke box – a testament to the RAW ideal.

Having got into trouble over a monkey, oops sorry: baboon, the local celebrity is Phil (Gareth Pierce): an outsider to this group of friends, he is the storyteller quoting lines from Jaws (on TV in the ‘other’ room), launching into song as the juke box clunks into life and causing havoc as his antics madden Bull (Roger Evans) to the point of confrontation – resulting in disaster as Phil stabs himself with the knitting needle and panic as Anna (Mali Harries), eight months pregnant goes into labour. Landlady Carol (Ri Richards) keeps the drinks coming, acts as peacekeeper and it is Carol who tells them about Phil’s trouble at Longleat.

Clarkey (Huw Rhys) is the ‘Peter Pan’ of the group, living what he can of the high life and ignoring responsibilities and Mari (Nia Roberts) is the kept woman with a London life, far removed from her Cardiff past. Together they reminisce and mull over mistakes but it is Phil’s cracked window that belies their privacy, allowing Bull and Anna to hear every word. Regret’s, jealousy, accusations and admissions of failure ensue: to Mari, Anna has done nothing with her life but “spit out children”; to Anna, Mari is talentless and a useless godmother and the full extent of their failed friendships comes to light.

A paired-back comedy that shines a light in the darkest corners of an apparently innocent reunion where fakery for the sake of saving faceis abandoned in favour of dramatics and truth. It is definitely one to see.

Continues at Sherman Cymru until 26TH May
Info: www.shermancymru.co.uk / 02920 646900

Just Like Little Dogs - Theatre

Patti Pavilion, Swansea

Fri 11 May

★★★★☆

“The Towie rules for pulling girls  (and boys)” a contemporary reference adapted to give a nod towards the Tawe, perhaps? As the life of Swansea teenagers come under the disco light of this energetic and unflinching collaboration between National Theatre Wales and Frantic Assembly.

Little Dogs is a stage adaptation of the Dylan Thomas short story Just Like Little Dogs, performed in the Patti Pavilion – a newly refurbished Victorian building across the road from Swansea’s sandy shoreline. The audience are a stone throws away from the locations in Thomas’ story.

Using the original premise, where youngsters live out their lives yearning and searching for love, strangers on the same quest, Little Dogsexplores those half formed lives, moments before teenagers cross the threshold into adulthood. As the hard boy, Jordan Bernarde explains that pulling girls is about being hard – he later repeats that litany, only to pull children’s toys from his pockets and armchair. In a separate sequence, Berwyn Pearce pulls girls knickers from his pockets.

There is one particular moment that overlaps between the old and the new narratives. A single line of Thomas story: “…where the methylated-spirit drinkers danced into the policeman’s arms and women like lumps of clothes in a pool waited, in doorways and holes in the soaking wall, for vampires or firemen…” is danced out by the cast when two policemen appear, highly unimpressed by proceedings and try to halt the girls from going any further.

Set out as a promenade piece, the audience are shuffled from corner to corner as the movement changes. Starting in a living room not out of place in 1920’s Cwmdonkin Drive, we are transported to the scene of a battered boy racer car, the desecrated toilets of a particularly seedy night club, the sandy beach, and the dirty streets in between – including an empty midnight bus stop. The cast guide us as they move to the beats of the music, diving in close and occasionally nudging along, they emerge from the audience: one minute part of us, the next part of them.

The older, grandmotherly figure of Sian Phillips may have been a ghostly, under used presence, yet it is her primarily silent presence that provides the significance. She is representative of the generational divide between teenagers and their grandparents, yet her two shining moments, comforting the lost and lonely Darren Evans with a forgotten lullaby and her striking, powerful monologue for the finale binds those two generations together – they are not so different after all: a fact Dylan Thomas could well have agreed with and we should be “humbled by the thrash of love”.

What the piece lacks in dialogue and substantial narrative, it makes up for in fantastic style, with Frantic Assembly’s unique brand of vibrant, physical theatre. It is punctuated by a soundtrack with a solid beat – reminiscent of a night out clubbing – it entrances you, grabbing at the heartstrings. Whilst these teenagers present the unrelenting, negative side to growing up, it is a gritty realism that will make you think, either of your own past, or of those teenagers out on Swansea’s infamous Wind Street living their lives and searching for that someone.

Little Dogs continues until Sat 19 May at the Patti Pavilion, Swansea. Suitable for ages 15+. Tickets: £5-15. Info:www.taliesinartscentre.co.uk / 01792 602060