The Riverside Studios host the return of this new play directed and written by Jude Benning, performed in an abridged version as part of the venue’s Bitesize Festival. Guillermo Nazara shares his views on the show, to let us know if its crude narrative can make you get the bug.
There’s a strong chance that 90 per cent of all the people you’ll meet at certain stages of your life -particularly, at school- will be complete *ssholes. It’s such a mathematical fact I’m surprised it’s still not been incorporated into the academic curriculum. Give them power and they’ll only seek destruction. You know where I’m going. Yelpers are the worst kind of human beings. But arrogant teachers that take pleasure in abusing their students as a way to make up for their own failures don’t lie too far away. Too bad for them, though, that art can take the classiest of revenges.
The Riverside Studios is celebrating this month the Bitesize Festival, a 4-week showcase of new work encompassing materials of all sorts, from titles encouraging us to feed from natural satellites (that’s not a joke – look it up!) to cringe depictions of that mysterious old man that every Christmas night lurks into our homes… Come to think of it, the work’s already been done for them… Amidst such a picturesque variety, there comes a piece exploring the real drama behind those who intend to make a living out if.
Spider, a new play by Jude Benning, treads the boards of the venue’s Studio 3 this week, to present us with its intense plot about a declining acting coach, and a troupe of students who cannot take more (and won’t) from his sadistic methods. Genuinely, an engaging premise to plunge into, the script however doesn’t manage to deliver the same kind of enticement, most sadly – its main issue coming from an insufficient development regarding both plot and characters. It’s true, though, that the original recount has been cut down drastically to meet the festival’s guidelines (from 2 hours to roughly one), but the evolution we may have intuited from scene is scene seems to be missing – with the roles experiencing very little evolution throughout their journey.
There’s still some elements that make the account appealing, all of them oozing veracity and a sense of coming from a personal, heartfelt place. But unfortunately, there’s not that much insightfulness given to them – with the majority being scarcely mentioned without digging deep enough to turn them into something tangible to the audience and, most importantly, sympathetic. At the same time, though the dialogue brings about some interesting questions about morality and both artistic and private integrity, several lines interrupt its flow quite a few times – using slightly cliched phrases than prevent it from unraveling and, most importantly, sounding natural.
A tale of grief, remorse and unconfessable secrets, Spider achieves to forge all its main focal points with determined strength, but appears to get caught in its own web when trying to interlace them. A simpler and more subtle outline would allow for its actual complexity to bloom, and boost the potential that’s hidden underneath a surface that, all in all, looks too predictable. There’s a chance for us, as audiences, to be taken by its dark charm. But for the viewer to be bitten, its sagacity cannot be stingy.
Spider plays at London’s Riverside Studios until 25 February. Tickets are available on the following link.