Review: Lynn Faces (New Diorama Theatre)

Review by Dan Sinclair

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Alan. ‘There’s no point finishing your sentence Lynn because I am not driving a mini-metro.’

Lynn. ‘But if you - ‘

Alan. ‘Lynn, I’ll just speak over you. Go on, try and finish a sentence and see what I do.’

I’m Alan Partridge, S1E2

Laura Horton’s Lynn Faces was in my EdFringe 2024 list of shows I wish I saw, but never got around to. It’s a wild sales pitch, a Bikini Kill/The Slits-esque punk band centred around Lynn, the fictional long-suffering Personal Assistant to Steve Coogan’s Alan Partridge character. Add to the list that it was created on my home turf with the Theatre Royal Plymouth, and it felt pretty tailor-made to two of my loves (that I could never imagine crossing over), Steve Coogan and the Riot Grrrl movement, so much so that I reacted a bit too eagerly, with a lot of all caps, when it was announced on the Dazzles WhatsApp.

Approaching her 40th birthday, Leah decides to mobilise and finally form the protopunk riot grrrl Alan Partridge-inspired band of her dreams, Lynn Faces, along with her friend Ali, played by a sharp Peyvand Sadeghian, with the snazziest cardigan of them all. Through the internet, they recruit primary teacher Shonagh, a professional debut from the hilarious Millie Faraway, and we come to witness their first gig. 

 From the offset, it is clear that we are in a gig/punk/theatre/nightmare mashup, Jessica Daniels's direction heightens the stand-offish nature of Horton’s bold script to create an often baffling but strangely captivating experience. As the gig progresses, we slowly learn that there is a tension running underneath between frontwoman Leah, a heartbreaking performance from Madeleine MacMahon, Ali and Leah’s ex Pete. We begin to see hints of his abusive behaviour and the hold he has over Leah, for Ali, the band is her final way to get Leah to confront the truth. Horton’s script manages to hold this devastating storytelling equally alongside the comedy, developing on the ‘cringe’ comedy admired by many in Alan Partridge, with many moments relying on awkward pauses and confusing off-beats. If you struggle with this comedy, then it may not be your thing, the meaning of the play stands apart from its comedy, but it functions best when integrated.

At the core of the play is a truly remarkable scene where Ali convinces Leah to play a game of Pete or Partridge, we all vote on whether a quote was from Leah’s ex Pete, or aHA funny man Alan Partridge. We start small, ‘Smell my cheese’, an easy one for any Partridge fans, but then it takes a turn, the quotes shift away from the ‘Monkey tennis’ silliness, and show the uneasy parallels between the coercive behaviour of Pete and cruelness of Partridge, not forgetting that Horton makes a point of the fact that this was a show of which Pete was a superfan, making Leah regularly sit down and watch it.

‘I’ll just speak over you. Go on, try and finish a sentence and see what I do.’

Coming out of the show, I honestly struggled to form my thoughts on the production, it’s surprisingly puzzling. The show is punk to its bones, (the following all by design) DIY, under-rehearsed, messy, lacking in precision but bursting with rage. In so many ways, it is anti-theatre: there are no traditional bows, the action is awkward, they cover their faces with cheap paper masks for the first 20 minutes, the guitar is out of time with the drums and they bang about for a wild 70 minutes before being herded off for Banana Bingo. 

To dislike these choices is to misunderstand them. A reference bought up early in the play is Viv Albertine and her book, Clothes, Clothes, Clothes, Music, Music, Music, Boys, Boys, Boys, an autobiography of her childhood before documenting The Slits, to being a punk and a girl in 1970’s London, and into her abusive marriage later in life. She reminds us, as does Leah, that to be punk is not just to urinate on stage or throw a tampon or scream and fight (not to say that those are not great elements) but it is to refuse to be ‘talented’, have a go and make a mess and purge some stuff out of your system, burn it. And you know what, I’ve missed that in theatre recently, more of it, please. 

And more snazzy cardigans.

Lynn Faces is playing at the New Diorama Theatre until 1st March

Tickets from: https://newdiorama.com/whats-on/lynn-faces 

Photos by Dom Moore