in Project Dictator.
Photo credit: Cesare De Giglio
Directed and Written by Julian Spooner, Matthew Wells, and Hamish McDougall
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Rhum + Clay delight in devising and delivering intelligent theatre that asks pertinent and challenging questions. Shows such as The War of the Worlds, TESTOSTERONE and award winning Mistero Buffo have all had critical acclaim. This production commissioned by New Diorama Theatre last year is dedicated to international artists living and working under authoritarianism. Project Dictator (Or: Why democracy is overrated and I don’t miss it at all) is whiplash smart with a meta script that opens as a farce masquerading as a state of the nation play which increasingly pokes fun at flaccid over-hyped politicians before descending into darker more sinister asides about tinpot dictators. The chilling conclusion dramatically shifts pace into a stark and disquieting nightmare that illustrates the perils and restrictions on artists working in oppressive régimes. This really is a case of whether a committed performer chooses to risk dying onstage or potentially behind the scenes.
The opening scene invites the audience into a cosy setting where the stage is set with opulent red velvet stage curtains and a smiling pianist who belts out seemingly endless cabaret tunes. A closer look reveals a palpable tension…the pianists’ eyes flutter nervously and her smiles are more unnerving rictus grins than genuine cheer. The playwright and star of the show within the show has the smooth confidence of an Alan Partridge who describes his character as Emmanuel Macron meets Jesus Christ without a trace of irony. Matthew Wells oozes the easy confidence of a politician with a Messiah complex on a campaign trail full of soundbites, babies and photo ops. Then there is his counterpart Jeremy Spooner, initially relegated to multiple small supporting roles or as the logo on his boilersuit states simply Everything Else. Spooner plays the absurdist buffoon, a comedic sidekick to Wells’ straight man.
This classic teaming allows for the entertaining initial farce before this political sketch is suddenly upended. Roles are reversed as Spooner challenges the narrative and what unfolds is a vicious political coup on stage. The comedy is cleverly ramped up as he crashes through the audience brandishing a baby monitor strapped to a megaphone and adorns himself with flashy epaulettes and a huge fake moustache. Suddenly the OTT charisma of this Ollie Reed/Freddie Mercury characterisation starts to dissipate as the sinister agenda becomes clearer. The smooth polish of an ineffectual politician with soundbites instead of solutions has been overthrown by a narcissistic dictator. As the audience is whipped into a frenzy so comes the uncomfortable acknowledgement that no dissent is allowed. The audience is now as unsafe as the performers as we start to turn on each other to save ourselves.
The political farce onstage is over and the nightmare really begins as the set reveals backstage. There the performers falter…suddenly vulnerable and wary as they clear away the props. Literally everything and everyone is stripped bare and all illusion is gone. They are now sinisterly hooded prisoners ordered to perform, deviating off script at their peril. Donning heavy clown make up and costumes the loop of performance begins only broken by hellish ruptures before the loop begins again. The performance starts to fragment until exhausted and traumatised each individual must choose their path. The powerful closing scene is full of pathos and pain as it alludes to the constraints and dangers for those artists producing work under authoritarian regimes.
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