As the first audience to witness Ronin Theatre’s A Mirror at OFS last night, we had little idea of the dystopian nightmare about to unfold or the unexpected theatrical gem being proffered.
Disconcertingly close to home, Sam Holcroft‘s mesmerisingly novel and acute script continually loops back on itself at such a cracking pace, that you have to hold on tight to keep up. Continually reflecting back the truths, falsehoods and clash of ideals that perpetrate this stunning play, it certainly lives up to its title.
Sam Holcroft’s mesmerisingly novel and acute script continually loops back on itself at such a cracking pace, that you have to hold on tight to keep up
So if the premise of A Mirror READ ABOUT IT HERE sounds dry; that of censorship and submission, think again, because the delivery, performance and reality is anything but, slowly warming us up until we are fully committed, and the dark comedy unfolds.
It takes a while to get a handle on what’s going on to begin with in A Mirror; a sham wedding then revealed to be the showcasing of an illegal play, banned by the country’s censors, the audience therefore inadvertently colluding from the beginning.
Introduced to the proletarian and hugely unassuming car mechanic Adem, summoned to The Ministry to discuss the play he’s written, his controversial script about the daily goings on in his black of flats involving prostitution, drug abuse and suicide, has been red flagged, reaching the attention of Ministry of Culture Director Mr Celik.
Celik fully believes he is a protector and defender of the arts, in actuality he’s slowly crushing the country’s talent by ensuring that everything which crosses his desk toes the party line
But instead of throwing Adem in jail or sending him to the infamous Re-Education Centre (labour camp) he decides to nurture Adem’s talent.
Of course this comes with all sorts of caveats, because while Celik fully believes he is a protector and defender of the arts, in actuality he’s slowly crushing the country’s talent by ensuring that everything which crosses his desk toes the party line, a propagandist, a word he hates.
But what Sam Holcroft does so brilliantly is desist from cliches and posturing, by delving deeper into the protagonists’ psyches, Celik believing he is fighting a battle of triumph over adversity as a guardian angel saving artistic souls, rather than a determined and dogmatic arm of repression. Broken up with unexpected moments of hilarity, genuine connections and relatable quandries, at this point it’s all very human.
Using a bare stage and a minimal cast, the pace never relents, Alistair Nunn‘s mastery of Celik’s world and the dynamism he brings to the part is seriously impressive, as is his protegee Mei (Neve Gascoyne) whose enigmatic demeanour disguises a rebellious soul, or Josh Wedge as Adem – the perfect foil; stoic, resolute, unassuming and unable to bow down or kowtow to any of Celik’s supposedly well meaning suggestions.
Alistair Nunn’s mastery of Celik’s world and the dynamism he brings to the part is seriously impressive
Which exasperates Celik so badly he feels compelled to call in playwright supremo and national hero Mr Bax (Edward Smith), whose work demonstrates everything Celik’s been trying to espouse. Cue another flamboyant and luvvie ego fest. Cue another of Adem’s disastrously observant plays.
And yet in the second half we wondered where A Mirror could go? We’d witnessed both sides of the argument and understood the conundrum. Job done? No, because that would be to underestimate the inevitable downfall of a naive man taking on a dictatorship, and the brutality that can involve.
So what was a play about ethics and morality, switches to one of self preservation and a whole new set of questions around how far you’d go to save yourself, and how that accountability pans out.
Throw in the current Russian, Trumpian, Middle Eastern and Chinese rhetoric and it seems that a happy ending, or a just reprisal, is out of the question.
That the final act can still whip the rug out from under our feet at this juncture is almost risible, But it does
That the final act can still whip the rug out from under our feet at this juncture is almost risible. But that it does thanks to Ashley Hunt‘s Officer, and as the curtain goes down on A Mirror, our minds are left teeming.
Something to think about then? Yes, because A Mirror stays with you long after you leave, so huge applause to Ronin for bringing such a prescient, clever, engaging and uncomfortable play to Oxford with such apparent ease.
Which leaves us to merely recommend that you push the boat out, try something different and venture out of your comfort zone by nabbing tickets to A Mirror, which is at OFS until Saturday Nov 1. Don’t miss it.
Tickets at https://oldfirestation.org.uk/whats-on/a-mirror-by-sam-holcroft/
