310: Flesh and Bone

            Flesh and Bone has hands down been highlight of this week for me. I am a huge fan of theatre and performance art, so I knew I’d love any show we saw while here. I did not, however, expect to be so completely floored in the wake of our first show. Its rawness and commitment to telling an untold story moved me to tears more than once, and I accredit that not only to the script, but also to the theatre setting, the world building, and the actors’ unmistakable devotion.

            This play was held in a much smaller theatre than I had anticipated. I am used to theatres with auditorium seating that ascends backwards and often has a balcony. Being in a significantly smaller room with only a handful of rows, we were much closer to the actors; their stage presence was delivered directly at our feet. The size of the theatre also helped to enclose the energy of the room. The actors were performing as full-out as they would have in a thousand-seat theatre, magnifying their emotion and drive even further.

            The set was nonexistent, with no grand curtain or even any wings. There was a single black curtain completely upstage that made two openings leading offstage. The play involved no set pieces or backdrops, and the actors used movement and clever staging to create different environments for their characters. One of my favorite instances of this was when the four family members stood in one clump together, each acting from a different room. I liked how this scene sort of commented on the size of their apartment while creating a creative way to bring the characters together visually while being away from each other in the home. The bare stage also emphasized the characters themselves and their dialogue. This show didn’t require an extravagant set up (or any at all) because the message was so powerful and honest.

The actors interacted quite a bit with the audience. There were direct fourth wall breaks where they would move patrons to other seats in the house, ask them questions, and have them hold props. In solo or narration moments, the characters spoke directly to the audience members. The entire dramatic experience was completely immersive and engaging. The actors truly built another world inside that theatre and carried us along with them the entire time. They were able to foster a sense of community within the space, drawing everyone closer together. This made their words that much more impactful. They had given the audience an inside look at the character’s lives, making the final confrontation scenes hit like a ton of bricks.

            I appreciated how each of the characters was original and diverse; they each had strong personality traits that distinguished them from the rest of the group. Kel had a passion for singing, Terrence had a knack for picking fights, Grandad still strove toward the life he promised his late wife, Jamal picked up selling drugs (and a hardened persona) in order to support his sick mother, and Reiss was secretly gay. Elliot Warren did a great job at writing a variety of lives while keeping it honest and real. Each characters’ story was developed and executed well, bringing life to the plot and voice to the people he writes about.

            The characters were not simply stereotypes or caricatures of similar stories, but their circumstances felt real. I especially appreciated Jamal’s development within the play. I was a little concerned at first, when he took the stage in what was obviously the role of the intimidating Black man. They established that thought quite definitely, but in his solo moments, Jamal breaks that away. The character explained why he put on such a show and the motivation for his crimes. He becomes a very relatable character that we begin to root for despite his facade. I really appreciated Warren’s dedication to his characters, taking the time to tell a lot of different narratives and explain their troubles and sacrifices.  

            One major aspect of this play that really made it ‘work’ was how completely focused the actors were. As a performer, it can be very difficult to find the unwavering focus they had on stage. I can personally struggle with confident eye focus that doesn’t hesitate or pay any attention to things happening outside the stage’s world. Even if I am able to achieve that feat, I never feel as focused as I look. I of course can’t know for sure just how focused the actor’s minds were, but their performances lead me to believe they were completely present in that moment and their characters. This aspect of their performance hit me the hardest. Their attention lends to their care for what they are doing up on stage, committed to the performance as honest people.

            All of these aspects of theatre composure and execution served to illuminate Warren’s points on social and economic class. He painted a real picture of the poor ends of London, giving voice to a forgotten group of people. These people are “forgotten” in our society by choice, the elites choosing to forget that the poor are people just like them. And sometimes, the rich are actively scheming to get rid of the poor, make them poorer, as seen in the scene with the rat infestation. Everything Warren did here worked together to force his point: that the “lesser-than” are not so different than you. They have a tightly-knit community that operates on family values and devotion. They do what society makes them do to survive as they are. Flesh and Bone’s raw and honest storytelling hit me in the most striking, beautiful way.