Last Updated on March 4, 2024
Is this new piece from physical theatre company Gecko more than the sum of its parts?
We are all part of a migration story. This universal truth, often hidden or unacknowledged, is the beating heart of Gecko’s new physical theatre production, Kin. Visually and technically accomplished, with a strong and urgent message, this has all the ingredients of a stellar production. However, the ambiguity of this piece and the enigmatic symbolism that is part and parcel of Gecko’s visual style, is its biggest drawback. High-concept theatre like this needs a profound connection to character, which unfortunately arrives too late in this production.
Gecko is an internationally acclaimed physical theatre company under the Artistic Direction of Amit Lahav. Their works are devised from the ground up, and this piece is inspired by the migration stories of the individual company members. Specifically, however, the production finds its roots in the journey Lahav’s grandmother Leah took in 1932 from Yemen to Palestine, in order to escape persecution.
After making theatre for over twenty years, Gecko knows a thing or two about physicality, which is put to good use in this production. Characterised by frequent forays into dance, Kin begins where most tales of migration traverse, at a boozed-up border barracks. From here, the production splits among several characters that attempt to grapple with their precarious existence, fighting chauvinistic perceptions and undertaking perilous journeys.
Alongside beautifully lucid dances, inspired by the many cultures represented by Gecko’s members, Rhys Jarman’s set and costume design is expertly pitched. Transformations between cities, countries even, are effortlessly executed, with clever lighting changes designed by Chris Swain. Undeniably, this show has spectacle, but what it possesses in show-stopping visuals, it loses in its enigmatic storytelling.
While the themes of this highly visual and expressive piece make themselves very clear, the absence of a continuous narrative leaves this highly technical show suspended in ambiguity. Not everything in theatre has to be explained, indeed much of theatre’s appeal stems from the enigmatic magic of the stage, but in the absence of clear storytelling, what is left? Visual symbolism without a clear connection to character leaves this piece unable to properly connect to its audience.
The lack of any real dialogue in this production is cleverly masked by each cast member speaking in their native tongue. Only the occasional word is decipherable amidst the cacophony of voices, clamouring to be heard. While the device is a neat one, it is difficult not to wonder whether it was correct for an idea that is rooted in the need for personal testimony.
At the very end of the production, the company engage in a crashing bodily display, representing the churn of the sea. Clad in red life jackets, the cast members each step forward to explain their connection to the myriad tales we have caught glimpses of throughout the production. It is the only extended speaking that occurs in the entire piece and, while the effect is undeniably profound, it provides no answers to the cacophony of questions raised but not answered by the piece.
The impulse to create art that will change the world around us is not new, but at this moment in time, it is particularly prescient. There is a new interest in drama as a tool for societal change, as has been shown by the ITV drama and national talking point Mr Bates vs The Post Office. Lahav echoes this in his message in the programme: ‘Now, more than ever, we need stories that connect us’. While Kin is driven by a quest to change perceptions, a greater insight into individual stories might give it more of the clarity it needs to make a real impact.
Kin at The Lyttleton Theatre:
Address:
Lyttelton at the National Theatre
Upper Ground,
Southbank
London
SE1 9PX
Run Time: 1 Hour and 20 Minutes, no interval.
Final Performance: 27th January 2024
Tickets here.
Leave a Reply