Review of ‘People, Places and Things’: “Almost the formula for the right chem”

The National Theatre’s acclaimed play returns to London scene in this new limited run currently playing in the West End until mid summer. Guillermo Nazara shares his views on the show, to let us know if this stirring recount of drug abuse is actually a hard pill to swallow.

“It’s hard to tell the truth when you make a living out of telling lies”. I should know. I find myself buttering up my clients all the time. Shoving down their throats the kind of cheesy stuff they want to buy. And pretending I like their clumsy thumping and slopping fingering. Thank goodness I only do it once in a while, because piano coaching can be exhausting (if you were thinking of anything else, you’re seriously screwed – literally…). Stiff situations apart (*smirk*), we can’t deny that we all, with surely no exception, have pretended to be somebody else some way or another – to turn the blind eye on those realities we should be facing, but instead prefer to run away from only to haunt us in the end. There’s many ways of coping. Some are helpful, others just make us think they are. And they can construct a false feeling of peace, which sooner or later turns out to destroy us.

The ball keeps rolling and trips once again on the West End stage, with the return of the National Theatre’s popular play People, Places and Things. Written by Duncan Macmillan and directed Jeremy Herrin, the show, presented as emotionally triggering dark comedy, explores the harrowing journey of drug-abusive middle-aged woman, as she struggles to come to terms not only with the addiction she’s trying to recover from – but actually, the problematic past that led her into such spiraling voidance. Penned with poignancy, wit, a mild touch of reflectiveness and, all in all, sufficient honesty, the script manages to both strike and elate its audience through a compelling narrative which, though not absolutely flawless, still accomplishes depth and thought provocation through the verity and gravitas of its characters.

Set in a rehabilitation center, the piece successfully builds an instant connection between the audience and the protagonist’s ordeal, portraying her strife with extraordinary rawness – punching the viewer, quite unapologetically, through a racking, yet enticing depiction of the torment she must undergo to finally find piece within herself. Though preserving the humour through mostly the entire recount, the account is anyhow able to touch the spectator’s heart at many moments – keeping the mood light in the surface, but simultaneously infusing a much more complex under layer which easily sneaks into our sentiments, allowing us not only to fall for the personage’s plight, but also bond with a journey which, one way or another, resonates with our own.

Crafting most of its content with satisfactory (and sometimes, exceptional) flow and piercing insightfulness, the script’s scarce issues stem from some sporadic, yet noticeable enough, cliches regarding the lead’s own self-analysis – articulating her troubles with poetic flair, but not sufficient uniqueness to make them feel fully genuine. Instead, some monologues look slightly tired and obvious, utilizing elements which, though taken from truth, fail to bring that element of personal authenticity – thus, not completely capable of delivering the necessary originality such snippets require, nor put into action the eye-opening possibilities they are supposed to provide us with.

In addition, we can also find a couple of blemishes when it comes to its structure and framing. Feeling a bit too linear on the whole, the second act suffers from a slight lack of proper pacing – ending in too abrupt a way with a bit of an inconclusive aftertaste which, either intentional or not, leaves a few pivotal components in the character’s arc a little unresolved. On the other hand, one can’t help but notice that a different approach regarding the account’s outline could have led to something more singular – as the lead’s job as an actress, sometimes linked to her hallucinations, could have served as a guiding thread where theatricality draws a blurred line between the reality of the world and her own self.

In any case, the montage makes up for any of the play’s not too serious imperfections. With sets by Bunnie Christie, the staging excels through its dynamic versatility, enhanced through the mixture of figurative aspects with a symbolic undertone. With the rather unexpected (yet more than applaudable) surprise of including part of the audience within the scenography, it’s James Farncombe’s extremely intricate lighting that triumphantly drags us into the piece’s universe – building both a concrete and evocative picture of the heroine’s (no pun intended) crumbling mind as well as the outside world, fairly supported by the cinematic embellishment of Andrzej Goulding’s video design and Tom Gibbons’s distressingly riveting sound design.

As for the cast, most of the company exude rapport and charm in their renditions, standing out through their energetic performances and, in some of them, captivating versatility. Among them, Kevin McMonagle makes a most memorable appearance in the double role of the combative patient Paul, and later, the lead’s father – proving his dexterity by moving through a register of completely opposite edges. On the other side, Denise Gough gives a rather praiseworthy interpretation as the main character, Emma – endowing her with a special sort of allure deriving from the sincerity of her approach, which, though sometimes a bit off, is all in all uncommonly arresting. However, the biggest praise goes to Sinead Cusack as the Doctor, Therapist and later, mum, portraying those personages with such delectable magnetism and subtle differentiation, one can’t evade the enchantment of her incredibly powerful acting skills.

A trip through the painful process of healing, People, Places and Things regales us with an outspoken comment on the trials and tribulations life usually challenges us with, and the constant trial and error phase we see ourselves forces to go through before sorting them out. Dealing with an extensive range of introspective topics such as childhood trauma, parental negligence and toxicity and self-reliance, the play is able to make an enduring impression on the viewer, which if polished through an even more particular form and more defined essence, would be able to unravel a more hooking substance out of its potential. It tampers with addiction. But it needs to turn into one.

All pictures credit to Marc Brenner.

People, Places and Things plays at London’s Trafalgar Theatre until 10 August. Tickets are available on the following link.

By Guillermo Nazara