Review: Spent (Baron's Court Theatre)

Review by Sam Waite

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Note: Spent, and this review by accusation, features frank discussions around sexual conduct, alcohol consumption, physical and mental health issues, including suicidal ideation.

“If it was the other way around, would you be defending her?”

“If she was a man, you’d be cheering her on.”

“If a man did that to a woman, you’d be horrified.”

It’s unlikely you’ve gone through life without encountering these arguments – constantly, we’re faced with the possibility that a person being perceived as either a man or a woman shapes the way we receive their words and actions. As part of the Voila! Theatre Festival, Spent stands as an exploration, and perhaps proof, of this idea. Perhaps certain words, certain ways of reacting to a situation, are coloured by sex and gender, and when a relationship sours we just might interpret who is at fault differently depending on who plays which role.

Staged over two weekends at the Baron’s Court Theatre, the play faces its audience – particularly those returning the next day – with that fateful question: Would your sympathies shift if the roles were reversed? Aside from one or two minor changes, a “boy” for a “girl,” one B-word expletive for the other (and yes, one does feel harsher), the script remains the same regardless of who takes on which role. Remember, dear reader, that if I do seem to be babbling, I am technically writing two reviews in one… technically.

Starring playwright Nikoletta Soumelidis and Charlie Collinson, Spent moves back and forth through the relationship of two characters known only as A and B. A, an assistant and eventual rising star at a high-powered company, has just moved in with B, an artist struggling to find a stable job – the pair have a mutual friend, who has just vacated the flat to perform on a cruise ship. After a meet-cute involving a ceiling covered in soup, the two begin first a casual fling and eventually a committed relationship, which we see in brief, nonlinear vignettes.

Helen Cunningham’s direction introduces subtle changes to the show depending on who is starring as either A or as B. When it is Soumelidis whose cooking has found its way to the kitchen ceiling, she and Collinson both try their hands at cleaning it while they get to chatting. When Collinson is behind the unorthodox redecorating, it’s not long before he relaxes and allows Soumelidis to take on the bulk of the task. You could argue such choices are unfairly leading the audience’s views between the two versions, but I felt it worked with Collinson’s take on the less tidy of the new roomies.

Elsewhere, Cunningham does keep things largely the same. Whichever actor is playing BDSM-enthusiast B becomes inherently the more sexually aggressive partner, always the one to climb atop the other and tasked with displaying the most outward bravado. Her direction also makes strong use of the basement space, turning the backstage entrance and eventually the auditorium exit into doors of the flat, allowing each new scene to take place believably in a single room of their shared home.

Nikoletta Soumelidis’ text draws parallels between BDSM practise and power dynamics elsewhere in relationships, a realisation that initially concerned me but would prove to be a masterful decision. Entirely side-stepping any unfair implications about the community, B’s introducing A into an erotic world for their physical and romantic relationship to eventually fall to the wayside stands as a bold metaphor for one person feeling they’ve given all they can to another person, and the sense of abandonment that can creep in when there is no more to give. B is the teacher, but A is the success story, further suggesting that one has given everything, and the other has outgrown them.

I’ll ask that you excuse my flair for the morose when I tell you that, despite the above, Spent is also a genuinely funny play. From the soup splattered across their ceiling to a pair of unseen but hilariously discussed dinners out, A and B do share a genuinely heart-warming and loving relationship… until they don’t. Soumelidis’ shifts between the two extremes are well-placed, the next scene darkening the mood only once a flash to happier days has brought a smile to your face. A particularly heart-wrenching moment finds the pair belting a late-night rendition of No Doubt’s ‘Don’t Speak,’ cut short so B can deal a devastating blow to the relationship.

Soumelidis and Collinson manage the seemingly impossible, absolutely thriving in both roles. Even where the pressure to learn the entire show and remember which parts belong to which actor set in, as with a stumble I did notice during their second variation of the material, the pair play small mistakes off without losing the character. Of course Charlie Collinson didn’t say the line the wrong way around, A just tripped over his words as we will now and then. He and Soumelidis share such an easy chemistry, such a genuine connection onstage, that any minor mishap or slightly flubbed line becomes part of the natural, free-flowing dialogue of these flatmates-turned-lovers.

Both performers manage to bring their own unique version of each character to life without compromising the gender-reversal concept. Neither actor ever feels like they’re playing the opposite gender, rather they allow the quirks and personalities of these characters to be interpreted however the audience’s relationship to gender may dictate. With long-term health issues, both physical and mental, factoring into the story, the pair’s range as actors is on spectacular display as they veer from agonising sorrow to likeable charm and back again. Easy as each of them makes it to understand falling for them, both refuse to shy away from the uglier side of things, allowing themselves to be abrasive, even unlikeable when called for. It feels as though I ought to say more about them, take a full paragraph each to mine their performances for nuances and well-honed beats – for fear of overwriting more than I likely have, I’ll merely say that each was excellent.

Of course, both have moments that read so differently depending on who plays A or B, that there is simply no choice but to approach the line differently. When A tries to move past B, shouting a trailing, “or I’ll…” life experience forces many of us to interpret things more dangerously when Collinson says the line. Likewise, B’s “you’ll what?” seems almost condescending when he says it, but carries an inherent fear as read by Soumelidis. These are the moments where Soumelidis’ text shines brightest – rather than force us one way or another, she lets our own existing biases colour the scenes. Similarly, Cunningham’s work doesn’t feel heavy-handed in the differing versions, a female A simply responding as a woman would when faced with an aggressive man, or a male A simply questioning his partner’s meaning – after all, isn’t it on me if I assume condescension?

Perhaps the unsung hero of Spent is Sophie Sparkes, triple-rolling as sound designer, composer, and stage technician. Blessed with a top-notch name for theatre tech (because Sparkes… like sparks… well, I think I’m funny!) she fills transitional moments with uncomfortable sounds of breathing and mumbling. There is a brief flash of music composed by her, and it could be argued that the biggest tragedy of this epic romance is how little of her work we’re allowed to enjoy. The mumbling and heavy breaths accompany short movement pieces guided by Lauren Lucy Cook – while they make for dynamic tableaus and do provide a nice visual introduction to the idea of shifting personas, their brevity and scarcity do leave them feeling underused and slightly too ambiguous.

Tackling questions around perception of gender without being too blunted in its exploration, Spent also offers a realistic vision of a complex, deeply flawed couple whose relationship ultimately draws to a close because it simply was not meant to be. Some people aren’t right for one another, some aren’t ready to give that much of themselves, and others could have gone all the way if not for some key moment in their shared lives. Where Spent truly succeeds is its willingness to see both sides, and to let its audience decide how big a difference gender really makes.

Spent plays as part of the Voila! Theatre Festival at Baron’s Court Theatre on Saturday November 16th and Sunday November 17th

For tickets and information, including the gender of each character at the performance, visit https://app.lineupnow.com/event/spent-by-28-2-productions

Note: The Reversed Roles Bundle includes both performances, played over the two consecutive days.