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Brighton Fringe 2011

The Cock & Tail Inn

Driftwood Productions

Genre: Comedy, Drama

Venue:

The Tudor Room, The Old Ship Hotel

Festival:


Low Down

“Driftwood Theatre Productions Presents… an original comedy! Spider’s dead, and the pub regulars are fighting over the inheritance… Who will win? The Cock & Tail Inn – a riotous 70s themes pub comedy.” The Cock & Tail Inn is a brand new, two act comedy play for an ensemble cast of ten actors; conceived and written this year by new Playwright/Director – the multi-talented John Scott Cobb, for Brighton-based media arts company Driftwood Productions. Driftwood have so far primarily been working as a film company. The Cock & Tail Inn is Driftwood’s first theatre production. This theatrical debut is produced by Producer/Director Driftwood’s Nick Green, and collaboratively directed by both Scott Cobb and Green together. John Scott Cobb is originally a musician by training and his background is as a concert pianist, and as a classical as well as contemporary composer. 2011 sees Scott Cobb’s second creative contribution to Brighton Fringe Festival in the genre of theatre, after his role as composer of the score for the historical musical play ‘The Royal Informer’ in Brighton Fringe 2010, for Pee Pee Zed Productions. Nick Green was Producer of this production

Review

Walking into The Tudor Room before this show begins, you are immediately transported into the universal atmosphere of a classic British pub. Immediately comforting and promising then! The set looks so good the audience might be forgiven for imagining that this is what this room always looks like. The inglenook fireplaces, Tudor beams and wood panelling are indeed permanent features of this space; but there has been the clever and effective addition of a hand-built wooden bar, high tables and bar stools. The set (apart from the somewhat crude but functional mock-up of the urinals perhaps, but more on that later…) is naturalistic and believable – worthy of any television set perhaps… And this brings us to my first comparison between this theatre production and Theatre’s somewhat estranged sister art form – TV. There are many wonderful links and intertextual references between the two genres to be found and enjoyed here, thanks to the energetic and passionate vision of Driftwood Productions for this show . And why not draw fresh new links between theatre and tv? Particularly when it comes to the heart-warmingly familiar genre of British Sitcom. Television situation comedy is very like the theatre. (A trip to a recording will prove that to you).

The difference is that every night in a tv studio is a first night (so no excuses about first night nerves) and the actors are never entirely sure if they’re acting for the cameras or the audience. Also, you can have a play without scenery but you don’t get tv shows without a complex mastery of naturalistic set-building. (Not dissimilar to the mastery of Driftwood’s set-building here.) Simple theatrical rules apply for tv sitcom writers. Things like – if you’re going to have the star covered in manure, better do it at the end. The performance has to be linear and continuous, without breaks that are long enough to break the tension and the enjoyment of the piece. There are none of the filmic luxuries of cuts, retakes, bluescreens or fancy televisual special effects. What is more, there is the audience to consider. If the audience don’t respond, there is no point in them being there at the studio.

And at The Cock & Tail Inn, the audience is the extra special guest. The majority of the actors do a good job of pulling off this show to its desired effect – to get the audience laughing. The acting skill is limited perhaps, and the inexperience of these actors shows. But they try very hard and most of the performances are very enjoyable. I wonder if the characters are likeable enough though. I think in comedy that we need to have a certain affection for the characters, even if they are rogues or villains of one sort or another. This has a lot to do with the characterisations employed here. There is a lack of depth and truth in the characterisations achieved by some of these actors. And sometimes the writing doesn’t help.

There are swearwords for instance that are bandied about by characters who don’t seem to look or sound right saying them. But I am being hypercritical here. But only because the bare-bones of this project are good. They deserve to be well-dressed. Special mention must go to four actors in particular who managed to employ the most convincing characterisations. Graham Axford’s opening scene cameo as the pivotal character ‘Spider’ is without fault in his very sweet and comical portrayal. This is a very fortunate piece of casting here. Admittedly not a difficult role to play, but Axford should get credit where credit is due. Warren Saunders’ equally sweet portrayal of the weak and weedy put upon ‘Mike’ is also very successful, and this is well cast. He works hard and this is not an easy part to play, as there is a sort of ‘journey’ to be gone on here for this character rather than just a one-dimensional charicature. Hannah Garred is totally convincing as the grumpy barmaid and does a very good job of ‘gluing’ the piece together. She is on stage from start to finish and it is vital that this role works. It does. She reacts well to what is going on on stage and performs all the theatrical ‘business’ without pretention. Madhava (I’m sorry, but there was no second name in the programme) has the most energy for and commitment to the piece of all the actors, and his characterisation is a blessing to this show. His part is truly well-observed. Chris Willoughby and Cara Fraser also deserve a small mention as characters that make us smile and laugh, and nearly manage to convince us they are real, but not quite.

Fraser’s strong energy, focus and vocal qualities make her stand out as a potentially good character actress, with more experience and training. Willoughby does comedy well, and he is great at the beginning of act two when he really ‘comes into his own’, but the character fails to convince in act one. A small point about costume – if you’re going to do a period piece, the cotume has to be absolutely right. It some cases it is but in many cases it is not. But here are the challenges of theatre on shoe-string budgets. I guess the biggest difference (and challenge for the playwright who needs to make this genre ‘fit’ in this theatrical space) between theatre and an episode of tv is that the standard length for a sitcom is 30 minutes, in which to tell a self-contained story, whereas when we arrive at the Cock & Tail Inn we are expecting to settle down in the audience, drinks in hand, ready to be entertained for two hour-long acts. Does the writing succeed in holding our attention for this long? I think the simple answer has to be “yes”. The audience is with the performance from start to finish. They laugh, they smile, they chuckle, they chat with recognition of the jokes to one another, they attend, they enjoy, and sometimes they even heckle… This is surely all that any comedy writer can hope for. Dream of even. Nothing can compare to hearing a live audience laughing out loud at your joke. Writing for comedy is not for the faint-hearted. Particularly when you’ve got to try to throw drama, character, plot and pathos into the mix. It’s a job made of adrenaline and guts.

The more complex answer to this question about the writing is this though: Although we cannot help but enjoy every moment of this play, despite its teething problems (“job done”, I hear you cry), we are also aware that certain lines don’t quite ‘work’. We are with the writer on this. We know what he is trying to say. We know when he wants us to laugh and how he wants to make us feel. And so we forgive him for not quite getting it right at times. I am talking about that specific skill of any good writer of the lines and the dialogue being entirely authentic. Odd words and lines that don’t seem to fit begin to rob us of what ought to be our fullest possible enjoyment of this light-hearted, heart-warming piece. What I do love is the writer’s use of the urinals. Look stage left and there is a (somewhat dodgy mockup – but hey, who really cares? Not I.) section of the stage dedicated to the pub’s men’s urinals. This is a cleverly used device enabling the action to take place out of the public space of the pub and the scenes that take place here make for some of the best comic moments of the whole play.

Great observational comedy. And observation ought to be the buzz-word for the whole play here. For both writer, director and actor. It starts with the writing. This has to be right. The actors can’t ever make it genuine, can’t ever make it right, can’t ever make it as funny as it should be if the lines aren’t quite right to begin with. And then the actor must interpret in a genuine way that communicates the sense of the lines correctly to the audience. And the director must ensure this is communicated effectively. For this process to work, each contributor must be observational in their work in order to convey the humour and pathos on stage. The playwright clearly understands human nature. This shows. The playwright clearly understands how to use stereotype, caricature and real life as well as larger-than-life scenarios to convey stories, humour and plot. And the basic plot of this play is simple and clever, just as it should be. It is a true ‘situation’, where comedy and enlightenment should have the opportunity to flow out of the situation. This is achieved in part. I think what I am saying is that this work has great potential, both as a theatre play, and also potentially re-jigged as a tv series. The potential is clear, and the overall concept (the nostalgia, the time period, the pub setting, the motivating plot-line) is surely a winner. This is new work. And it definitely is a worthwhile piece of work. And one that has an interesting part to play both in the theatre, and also as a potentially lovely British tv sitcom series. It is worth nothing that there is no other show like this one in this year’s fringe or festival, and I’m so glad Driftwood have done it.

Their marketing has been exemplary, and especially considering they didn’t make it into the Fringe’s official programme of events, due to the quick turn-around of the creation of this production (the whole thing has been achieved, amazingly, in less than five months). This is a cosy, joyful, nostalgic, courageous, and dare-I-say-it important piece of work – with oodles of future potential for development and redevelopment.

Published