Review: CAPRICORN 29, The Tank (Online)
It’s no secret that theatre-making during lockdown has been immensely challenging, and maybe that’s one of the reasons why Capricorn 29 feels like such an audacious undertaking. Because the audacity of its creators is very much at the forefront throughout, and the piece is all the more admirable for it. Even the synopsis is colourfully bewildering, promising to take audiences into a “hallucinatory YouTube wormhole.”
So just what is it all about?
It’s an online play in which the viewer sees through the eyes of “The User” (Lindsey Steinert), a YouTuber going through an existential crisis in the run-up to her 30th birthday. What begins with a string of witty and well-observed pastiches of insufferable influencers, puppy videos and Rick Rolls soon takes a darker turn into more bitingly satirical territory.
Reference is made to “Morgan’s Run,” a parody of cult ‘70s sci-fi flick Logan’s Run, which is about a society in which people are killed when they reach thirty. Similarly, the title alludes to moon-landing conspiracy movie Capricorn One. And sure enough, The User soon finds herself descending into paranoia as her birthday approaches. She feels as though she is at the centre of a nebulous conspiracy from which she cannot escape. Another recurring theme is the problematic nature of creating art within a “capitalist framework” (a phrase that recurs throughout, like a mantra). Likewise, the folly of social media-fuelled homogenisation. All of this feels painfully relevant in 2021.
It’s worth highlighting the performances of Kalyne Coleman, Brendan George and Lindsey Steinert, who embrace the concept with gusto. Also the songs by Laura Galindo, Daniel & Patrick Lazour, Stompcat and Storm Thomas are a definite plus. They are delicate yet evocative, ranging from acoustic folk guitar to slick synth-laden compositions played out over original animations or montages of movie clips, gifs and viral videos, all with the propulsive rhythm of a ticking clock.
Compounded by the emotional pressures of lockdown, this is a show that transcends the limitations of technology and screens. It addresses the social pressures we all face, as well as the irrational expectations we set for ourselves, and exhorts us to embrace our flaws because they are ours, rather than attempting to conform to a non-existent “ideal.” “Comparison is the thief of joy,” says one of the characters, and that about sums it up.
Ultimately, Capricorn 29 is dryly funny, bittersweet and uplifting. It’s a joyous hymn to the anxiety generation, and is well worth an hour of your time.
**** Four stars
Reviewed by: Tom Mead
Capricorn 29 can be viewed here until 30 May here.