King’s Arms Theatre, Salford
The Greater Manchester Fringe on throughout the month of July at various venues around Greater Manchester. And, once again, I’m going to be reviewing a selection of the productions on offer for this blog, and also for The Festival Show on North Manchester FM.
On Monday 11th July, I was at the King’s Arms Theatre to review a double bill from Sugar Butties. I’m going to be reviewing the two pieces separately, so first up is The Olive Tree (written and performed by Jessica Forrest). The radio version of this review will be going out on The Festival Show on Friday 15th July, but here’s the blog version…
The Olive Tree is a one-act solo show, written and performed by Jessica Forrest. It’s a deeply personal show, using monologue and sketches to present a series of vignettes that are linked by the theme of change (specifically, big life changes).
The show opens with Forrest sitting in a meditative pose on stage. I’m always impressed when actors choose to be on-stage, curtain-up as the audience takes their seats. It must take incredible concentration to remain so still and impassive in the face of the chatter and giggles of the arriving audience.
When the play begins, Forrest begins with an anecdote about seeing a ‘baba’ (a ‘spiritual grandfather’) sitting under a tree. This leads into an off-beat opening monologue about the inauthenticity of many supposed spiritual leaders. Forrest places herself into the monologue, explaining that the show is inspired by a series of life events she’s experienced, which have made her think more about the nature of change.
As I say, the storytelling here uses vignettes, but these are strung together chronologically – much as leaves and fairy lights are strung together behind Forrest as the only set dressing. (The bare stage and lack of dressing makes sense when you know that previous performances of The Olive Tree have been performed outdoors.) Each story is presented with some physical performance – Forrest dons a white dress and fairy wings for one piece, mimes looking after a baby in another, wanders around the stage as though it’s an Italian supermarket elsewhere, and so on.
The first story Forrest tells is about her experience of working as a nanny in London, and it explores and presents the difficult emotions of looking after – and coming to love – a child that isn’t your own. It begins as a rather light-hearted comical piece, including a part where Forrest pulls an audience member up to the stage to play the part of a toddler learning to walk (more on audience participation in a moment). But there’s a bit of a tonal sucker-punch towards the end of the story that gives it a depth and weight beyond the audience’s initial expectations.
What follows is a more explicitly comedic sequence in which Forrest mimics a wealthy American socialite describing the experience of giving birth and being a new mother. This sequence – performed with increasingly frenetic and sharply parodic tone – offers a contrast to the previous one, but still delivers a bit of a hit as it reaches the climax of its absurdity.
This sense of tonal uncertainty characterizes much of the rest of the show as well, notably in some of the vignettes set after Forrest moved from London to Italy. For instance, she introduces a friend (and the friend’s sense of humour) through a humorous story about being tricked into showing a doctor’s letter to strangers in a supermarket. There’s a faster pace and more physical comedy in this section, but it gives way to a follow-up story, in which we’re told that the friend died a couple of years later.
The audience is able to navigate these emotional shifts – which are, at a couple of points, rather abrupt – because of Forrest’s performance style. She is, at all times, talking directly to the audience. She introduces the play and gives an idea of its content, and the vignettes and anecdotes are all presented in a storytelling style. The intimacy and sense of trust (i.e. the performer trusting the audience) this creates allows for the audience to feel comfortable when darker emotional experiences are evoked. Forrest doesn’t look distressed in telling them – any distress comes in ‘flashbacks’, scenes that are acted out but lack the immediacy of her direct address – so the audience is being encouraged to feel sympathy, but not discomfort. That’s not to say that Forrest doesn’t demonstrate range here, but rather that the piece has a coherence that’s apt for a one-act piece.
Now, I need to say something about audience participation here, as this was something that didn’t work as well as for me.
The promotional material for the play did warn that audience participation would be involved. However, it didn’t really give an indication of the type of audience participation that would be required. This was not a ‘join in if you like’ approach, but rather a direct singling out of individual audience members and expecting them to participate (physically and verbally) in the performance. For me, this didn’t really gel with the overall sense of comfort and trust that Forrest’s storytelling style evoked so well.
Speaking of trust, I mentioned that Forrest conveyed a sense of performer-audience trust that enhanced my enjoyment of the play. I was less sure about the assumption that this would work both ways. Before the play had really begun, Forrest indicated card tags and pencils on the tables in front of us and asked us each to write a personal and private story about change on a tag and give them to her. She assured us that these wouldn’t be read out, but we’d not really been given any reason to trust that assurance. The direct demands of audience participation didn’t inspire me to believe that these stories wouldn’t be used in some way, and the off-beat, somewhat unexpected storytelling style felt at odds with the request to share private information in a room full of strangers. (We were also asked to put glitter on our faces at the end of the performance, which almost all of us did, but I’m not really sure why we were doing it. It didn’t seem to have anything to do with the play itself, but who can resist a bit of glitter?)
Uneasy audience participation aside, The Olive Tree was an enjoyable piece of theatre. Forrest is an assured performer, well able to deliver the hard emotional moments of the play in a way that evokes strong sympathies in the audience. Her poised and deceptively gentle storytelling style creates a confessional intimacy that draws the listener in to the quirky and rather unexpected tales of change that make up the play.
If anything, I think The Olive Tree could have been longer – though, admittedly, that’s a big ask of a solo performer! When it came to a close, I felt like I wanted to hear more, and that surely is the mark of a successful performance. But that was the end of the first part of a double-bill, so Forrest prepared to leave the stage, ready for the second half (which will be the subject of my next review).
The Olive Tree is a great piece of Fringe theatre and well worth a watch. It’s moving (but not in an over-the-top manipulative way), funny (in a bittersweet way) and intimate. If you get change to see it at another Fringe festival somewhere this year (like, I don’t know, Edinburgh), I’d definitely recommend you see it.
The Olive Tree was on at the King’s Arms Theatre on 11th and 12th July, as part of the Greater Manchester Fringe. For the full programme of Greater Manchester Fringe shows on this year, please visit the festival website.
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