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Review: Showmanism (Hampstead Theatre)

Review by Sam Waite

 

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

 

Thrown around too often as a snide critique, it can be difficult to accept when we genuinely don't “get” something. But such was the case when I saw Re-Member Me, Dickie Beau’s one-man lip-sync docu-play about the history of Hamlet – the crowd went wild, while I had failed to connect. This time around, with Beau’s return to Hampstead Theatre, it was mere minutes before I found myself totally hooked, seeing completely how style, substance, and Sir Ian McKellen, worked as one to create something utterly unique, and truly remarkable.

 


A powerful combination of form and content, Showmanism finds Beau turning his hand, and his lip-sync format, to the history of theatre itself. We open on our unnamed protagonist, undressing so as to demonstrate their body’s presence as simply a tool of performance. Escaping from behind a wall of light, they approach that most familiar of theatrical props – a skull. As it has for centuries of Hamlets, this simply prop connects them to a long and enduring history, as their bare body becomes host to Greek tragedian Thespis.

 

Like with Re-Member Me, Beau and co-deviser Jan-Willem Van Den Bosch have formed Showmanism around a collection of interviews and monologues, in this case on the history and practise of performance. Both Beau and the recorded voices take on thoughtful meta-textual qualities, with a funny aside commenting on having watched Ian McKellen react to Ian McKellen as recreated by Dickie Beau. Beau adds a narrative of his own into the mix, replying to an interviewee that maybe he will have his own voice in this play, building to a clever subversion in which he lip-syncs to his own side of this same conversation.


 

In fact, Showmanism becomes largely an exercise in self-commentary and introspection. Whereas Dickie Beau allows in questions around his “lip-sync mix-tape” style, fielding a pointed, “But you can talk to the audience, can't you?” this same self-assessment is far from absent elsewhere in the recordings. Writer and journalist Rupert Christiansen is great fun as The Inner Critic, exploring the idea of self-critique while also lampooning the perception of inflated egos which surrounds theatre criticism – a seemingly risky move on press night, but one I found to be among Showmanism’s funniest moments.

 

Visual aspects, all the work of set, costume and video designer Justin Nardella, ensure that the audience is captivated even if they lose the thread of the lengthy pre-recorded monologues – truth be told, I slipped out of place once or twice, but always found something to engage with. Nardella’s stage has uncovered sides, the audience not only welcomed but perhaps encouraged to glance past the performance space and into what could be waiting beyond. A raise platform is bordered by the aforementioned wall of light, and surrounding it are a variety of props, from the skull to an orange tree, to the bathtub in which the tree is planted and to several mounted screens. The possibilities of what will be used and how it will be employed are endless, much like the options for how art can be presented.


 

Marty Langthorne’s lighting design is an exercise in precision, the opening obstruction as harsh as required and momentarily blackouts placed perfectly and for just the right number of milliseconds. As sound designer, Dan Steele has equally as precarious a task, creating a gradual merging of recording and reality, utilising only pre-recorded sound to present the illusion that parts could in fact be coming from Beau himself. Capped off by Nardella’s striking video sequences and Langthorne’s immediately-clear elevator lighting as this host body travels deeper into the history of the arts, Showmanism’s strengths extend far beyond its central concept.

 

Though of course supported by all of these elements, and adjusted carefully and with an expert hand by Van Den Bosch, the show’s strongest element is undoubtedly Beau himself. Although I struggled to connect with his lip-sync documentarian in Re-Member Me, even by bitter old soul was deeply moved, and thrillingly entertained, by Dickie Beau’s performance as a blank slate inhabited by a host of characters. With a sterling company included McKellen and Christiansen alongside the likes of Peter Sellars and ever-strong Fiona Shaw, Beau is able to slide easily in and out of an array of roles, from Thespis to The Queen, conceptual beings to real-life industry titans, even from his own inner-critiques to his own self, all without uttering a single word of live dialogue. The early scene of his entrapment behind the lights has touches of mime to it, and this show serves as a reminder of how powerful an actor’s performance can be with simply their physical presence.


 

Before you arrive at it yourself, assuming you haven’t been muttering it this whole time, pretention is certainly a word which could apply both to Dickie Beau and to his Showmanism. To that I would say… you’re absolutely right. Still, what’s wrong with a bit of pretention here and there? Why shouldn’t something exploratory and cathartic also be a big self-congratulatory? Showmanism is a show that I can’t quite bring myself to give that perfect 5 star score, because in my heart of hearts I recognise objectively where others may find subjective faults, and some may bristle against a show so meta-textual and yet so direct in its intentions. That being said, I can’t find any reason not to wholeheartedly implore you to see it for yourself – whether an expert in the arts, a total novice, or likely inhabiting the space beyond this binary, you could certainly spend 90 minutes in worse company.

 

Showmanism plays at Hampstead Theatre until July 12th

 

 

Photos by Amanda Searle

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