By: Rosie Sharman-Ward, TRP Reviewer
This show is electrifying. A rollercoaster ride through every emotion. Dazzling poetry, galvanised, supported and consoled by stunning music, the audience is transported back to a youth spent hemmed in by beautiful countryside.
We are welcomed by Rebecca Wood’s cosy set with a sofa and rugs that let us feel at ease. There are festoons of lights and soft lamps. Instruments lie ready to be heard and soon after, people arrive to tune them and then start to play. Their music is punchy and rhythmic, our feet start to tap along. Getting into the gig, I almost forget I am here to see a show. As we listen, a woman arrives on set greeted by smiles from the band.
The woman is skilled wordsmith, Malaika Kegode, “You can call me Mal.” She tells of her real-life friendship with the band and that they are here to support her telling her true but difficult story. Asking us where we are from, her gentle banter drawing us into her narrative. Mal explains each member of the band, Jakabol, will represent a person in her life. A special group of people who have known each other forever. Oscar, Lewis, Ama, Holly and of course Mal. The commonality and challenges of growing up in an idyllic but suffocating rural town forge a compassionate bond.
The writing is spellbinding, beautiful lyrical words describe tender friendships, harsh realities, painful emotions and love. Enhanced by Jakabol’s thrilling songs, this gig style production leads us through a succession of house parties, teenage bedrooms and open spaces to weave its tale. Christopher Harrisson’s animations, projected onto a large wall rug, add another layer of genius to the show. In turn they amuse, illustrate and warn the audience as an ache of inevitability builds at the end of Act One. The clever lighting by Joe Price is used to great effect changing through soft to gig lights to alarm and back.
A striking element of the whole production is the care it lavishes on the performers, the audience and the truth of the story it tells. As Mal pauses for a drink and a chat asking if we are ok or an instrument needs tuning, the intensity built up is allowed to ease a little. Our collective shoulders relax a tad.
Act Two is huge. Big emotions, dramatic music, a hailstorm of words. At one point I almost got up to hug Mal! Her fully invested audience willing her along, grateful she has friends. Despite it all there is so much hope to be found in this story. So much tenderness and affection. An understanding that good people can be affected by hard circumstances. Conclusions are not drawn. Mal’s life goes on, changed but continuing as it does for any of us.
Having written many reviews, I feel I should be able to use a variety of superlatives. Instead, my brain just keeps saying, “Wow” A brilliant production directed with such attention by Jenny Davies.
Jakabol are: Joe Williams – guitar, Marietta (Maz) Kirkbride – violin, Owen Gately – drums and Emmy Broughton – harp & flute