No Show, Yard Theatre, stage review: ‘Slices of satire and silliness’
Photograph: courtesy The Yard Theatre
A raucous energy radiates from the periphery of the sparse stage, a carnival atmosphere borne from beers, as well as a growing sense of uncertainty.
When will the star appear? Or will what feels like a surprise party – a surprise to all of us – leave us wondering whether the guest of honour really wanted a party at all?
Christopher Green dares us to unpack these thoughts and more in No Show, an uncompromising, not-so-solo 90 minutes at Hackney Wick’s Yard Theatre.
His “reluctant” performance is an ode to the meta, a lingering deconstruction of the dramatic form.
We are a willing crowd, but this is one tough performer to please.
Still, slices of satire and silliness cut through the night as we battle our way through an existential drama armed with songs, dancing and an excess of awkwardness.
A suited and booted Green never really tries to define the show or our positionality within it. This lack of internal clarity can be brilliant, but it can also feel contrived and stilted.
Two years after his Prurience concocted an imagined self-help group for porn addicts, here our toes are dipped in to immersive theatre without fully taking the plunge.
Perhaps this is exactly as intended, but at times the show just does feel a little too self-referential, a little too invested in its own cleverness.
That said, this inward-thinking does get at the heart of what this is all about – what role does and should theatre have in our world?
In No Show, Green (and his gifted, partially visible team) successfully explore the agony of the artist who must bare themselves to a room full of strangers and is expected to make them feel something.
He also poses important questions about our love affair with escapism, our need for constant consumption of art or otherwise.
On this one occasion, the show felt flat and unwieldy towards the end, like a party that has gone on into the wee hours and suddenly no one’s quite making sense. But every night will be different.
“Don’t look at me, look at me,” Green at one point tells us, coquettishly self- mocking both himself and his colleagues.
As spectators and co-conspirators, we find we cannot look away.
No Show runs at the Yard Theatre until 14 March. Tickets are £10.