ByMoonlight Theatre’s take on Steven Berkoff’s prosily poetic work brought London life roaring into focus like a day-tripper riding a clapped-out Harley to Southend.
“I flashed my razor in, which danced about his face,” intoned stony-faced Les, played to petrifying perfection by Wayne Hughes. But by the end of that particular fight, he and Mike had become mates, having put the reason for their quarrel, darling Sylv of the “legendary knockers”, far behind them.
East is not a play with a strong plot but rather a series of skits/monologues on topics dear to each character’s heart – a cunning way of showing what makes them tick. In Sylv’s case it was blood – or, specifically, the shedding of it to gain exclusive access to her knickers – that lit her fire, as revealed with gusto by the luscious, uber-confident Sinead McInnes. Richard Williams, meanwhile, skilfully injected a dash of Alf Garnett-style menace into Dad, as he banged on (over a nice cup of tea) about how those “dirty foreigners” were bleeding England dry – all the while pouring scorn on his beaten-down wife (Mum), beautifully hammed up in true Monty Python tradition by Andy Currans.
Turan Duncan’s friendly, cartoon-like portrayal of Les, plus some short bursts of humour provided by the talented keyboard player, sent director Tanju Duncan’s portrayal of life in the land of tea, fags and bitter skittering to the very edges of good taste – exactly where you felt Berkoff would have wanted it to be.
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