Review: THIS MIGHT NOT BE IT, Bush Theatre
Photo credit: Ellie Kurttz
The audience sits, a fly on the wall, ready to welcome bright-eyed Jay on his first day as a temp at an NHS Children and Adolescent Mental Health Service office and, across sporadic intervals of time with smooth, artistic transitions assisted by Laura Howard’s lighting design, follows him on a journey of near misses: misunderstandings, miscalculations, gradually becoming miserable, until he reaches a crossroads of what he can, should and wants to do to help. However, the show largely rests on the relationship between Jay and Angela, who has been in this role for over 20 years, somehow stuck in the past but at the same time, in her own way, running from it.
The Bush Theatre has always exuded that special feeling of creativity and passion of fresh, up-and-coming talent and this production is no different. Now a writer across theatre, TV and film, Chetin-Leuner was first a member of Bush Theatre’s own Emerging Writers Group, an open talent development programme focussed on writers, created to support and encourage new work and bring important new voices to light in UK theatre.
Set and costume designer Alys Whitehead achieves intriguing and creative use of space in a set that perfectly captures the working environment of the NHS and acts as a storytelling tool in itself, allowing a range of physical representations, from duality and opposition to chaos and clarity, able to scratch that otherwise unreachable part of the brain and add a new level to proceedings that frankly rivals the cinematic world. Where the small size of the performance space, and admittedly pleasing creative thinking applied to make it work, sees threats to the believability of the piece attempting to push through, the performance creates a strong barrier that bends slightly but never yields. Costumes, similarly, play on the audiences more stereotypical views of the world resulting in extremely effective representation and allowing simple split-second understandings.
Max Pappenheim and Sasha Howe’s sound design lays a foundation of key themes of repetition and places the events in a full, real, well-rounded world, erasing any risk of this one-room-play feeling secluded from the swirling, formidable concoction of very real experiences and consequences entangled in this story, joined seamlessly by the atmospheric hustle and bustle of the office and waiting room experience we all know one way or the other.
It is clear Sophia Chetin-Leuner knows how to command an audience, showing a complete absence of the word ‘throwaway’ anywhere in her vocabulary and a pleasing affection for moments of silence holding a range of meaning, from tension to sadness to humour. Soft chuckling rises and falls throughout the crowd at hints of relatability, at times, slightly ridiculous truths and one all too real one - the truth that silence can be dangerous.
She continues, in this play, her established talent for capturing some of life’s most special characters and their unseen struggles and challenges. It comes across the perfect case study of a classic lesson in basic theatre techniques and as such, demonstrates a whole different set of truths. Theatre does not have to be loud, exaggerated and risky to be heard. Those overwhelming theatre experiences are amazing, of course, but theatre can just be experience. Experience of a new outlook, of a truth previously denied or a confrontation previously avoided.
Above anything, the play comes across strikingly honest and human with incredibly natural performances of subtle but expert choices brought to the stage by this extraordinary cast of three. It is arguably simple in its premise but, as a performance, beautifully layered and anything but safe. Every element and department involved works hard toward its goal. Each member of the cast brings something different and so important to the story, each fully representing a different experience that audiences can take away from theatre done right.
Jay is a perfect vehicle for the beautiful metaphors and writing of wonderful precision, insight and perspective that Sophia Chetin-Leuner achieves. Denzel Baidoo’s personality-filled portrayal produces arguably most of the standout moments of the production, reaching its pinnacle in one particular speech delivered with an excellent stage presence. Angela is a character of shifts and development, played by Debra Baker, who holds our hearts in the palm of her hand through an impressive and moving performance.
Dolly Webb makes a fantastic professional debut as Beth, a small part that packs a big punch. Opposite some very experienced cast members but largely disjointed from them due to the complicated demands of her role, she manages herself effortlessly. On top of that, a considerable yet unspoken weight on her shoulders, Beth is the character that brings the emotional peak and sets the stakes to introduce risk, to such a point where her entrance cues a sharp breath inward. Webb takes on this crucial role with remarkable ease and control, conjuring tears to your eyes in mere seconds.
The singular fault in an otherwise flawless project is the ending. Although the play sets out to confront a ‘crumbling’ system, we are taken on a positive journey of personal change, from the inside, out, and the overarching feeling is one of hope. Given this, it could be said that the production’s end is on a far too negative note that lacks a certain feeling of closure, instead leaving us feeling as if we took a step back. Whilst it is clearly recognisable as an attempted thinking point to close the production, this reviewer puts forward the possibility that they asked the wrong question.
**** Four stars
Reviewed by: Louisa Clarke
This Might Not Be It plays at the Bush Theatre until 7 March, with further information here.