Flesh and Bone Blog Post

Bye-bye, Expectations

Our viewing of the play Flesh and Bone was one that consisted of surprise after surprise for me. Having not really remembered what it was about eight-some weeks after picking it, I had no real clue as to what was about to happen.

The first surprise came when walking into the upstairs theatre at Soho. We walked into a black box theatre on the very small side. Which is saying a lot for a black box theatre. It’s tiny size and lack of set design had really thrown me straight away. In my head, I had imagined some grand theater. Something that was old and classic looking—you know, like most of London tends to be. This rather new and innovative type of theater was the farthest thing from my mind. And at first, it worried me. Maybe this wasn’t going to be the kind of production quality I was hoping it would be. Or maybe we had made the wrong choice in choosing this play.

            Luckily, once we were about halfway through the first scene all those thoughts dissipated. I began to see that this was the perfect kind of set for this play. The minimal set design was the perfect choice. Having more than the one prop would have become a distraction. In the end, it may have actually taken away from the beauty of the words being spoken with the fire and emotion they were. Not to mention it works perfectly with the Shakespeare tie-ins the writer used. Traditionally minimal sets were the norm for a Shakespeare play, and this play perfectly mimics that style.

            On top of that, the smallness of the room, while also good for the small audience size, helped to create a more intimate atmosphere. This atmosphere was one of companionship and unity. Whatever was about to happen next in this play, the audience members were in it together. And when each character had their emotional monologues, the room was filled with nothing but what the character felt. There was no way to escape their pain and fears. Especially not when the actors look you directly in the eyes from your own seat. The closeness of the audience members and the stage also create an intimacy similar to what I would assume the writer’s family gatherings were like. In the introduction of the text, he talks explicitly about how everyone was crammed into one room and talking loudly to be heard with no opportunities for silence. And while there were definitely emotional pauses, the silence still felt full and intimate.

            If that wasn’t enough, the play also includes an insane amount of audience interaction. I hate audience interaction. I hate the fear it fills me with, the anxiety that comes from the idea that suddenly because some strange man on stage might choose me to torment—the whole audience looking at me. But luckily, we were in the third row and I was well towards the middle. And so, my fears were somewhat relaxed, and I was able to enjoy the joking and the teasing of the other audience members.

            What I didn’t quite realize then, was that this involvement of the audience did more than create some funny moments and gags. It too helped to pull us into this fictional family’s life. We became part of this rough and tough group of Cockneys whether from Arizona or Ohio. From small moments like acknowledging the audience’s existence and asking where they’re from, to full on moving one of the viewers as Kelly takes said seat to give birth; one hand gripping the person’s shoulder on either side of her. No matter how big or small the interaction, we were all sucked in even more—if that’s even possible. 

             And that is definitely not something I was ever expecting. My first impressions of this play, based off nothing but the blank theater, could not have been farther from expectation. It was loud and bawdy and over-the-top, but it was also heartfelt and tender and full of meaning. It contradicted those expectations at every turn and refused to let me see what was coming next. But that was all just part of the experience. The confusion and enrapture only added to what I got out of it. I can’t imagine this play being performed in any other way.