The Park Theatre hosts the premiere of this original play as part of their new talent support programme, exploring the trials and tribulations of two friends of different age coming to terms with their personal journeys. Guillermo Nazara shares his views on the show, to let us know if its emotion-pouring manages to keep its head above.
Let’s be honest about it: we’ve all had that one special teacher we fancied beyond their educational abilities. You know, that TILF type (no acronym dissections needed) we fantasized about getting private lessons from – the only kind we really couldn’t wait to get our hands (or fingers…) on. Alright, alright – I’ll stop. After all, this is not a comedy (if you have the slightest intention of replying I wasn’t being funny, you’d better get ready for a sort of soreness you’re not gonna be a fan of this time). I think I’ve lost my train of thought after such a long insertion (*smirk*).
Oh yes! As I said, this is not a comedy. But it’s no drama either – at least, not in the tragic sense we usually associate that concept with. It has it’s joyful moments. But it’s also packed with a lot of pain. And all in all, a great deal of confusion. There’s a term to describe that genre quite accurately. It’s called life. Because that’s what this play is all about. That bumpy journey we all go through along our existence, filled doubts and fears – and built upon the hits and mistakes we make all the way through. Choices that we must face in order to continue – with the unexpected becoming the ones that determine the meaning of our course.
This month, the Park Theatre opens its studio stage to Cold Water, an original play presented as part of the Make Mine a Double programme (showcasing the work of new upcoming talent), dealing with the inner conflict of two people living different chapters of their lives, but aiming for the same goal: to find their happy place in a world that’s not always that gentle. Written and directed by Philippa Lawford, the production stars Jolyon Coy as Matt (a former actor turned into primary school teacher) and Julia Pilkington in the role of Emma (an university dropout working as his assistant before attending drama school). Kindred spirits despite the many differences that set their individual transitions apart, they will find rapport in one another – discovering that the tracks they walk on are not that deviated from one another.
Relying on quite a recurring yet still stimulating premise, the piece sets the grounds for what could have been an introspective, somehow transformative, and ultimately, resonating narrative dealing with the core purposes of our everyday. Sadly though, such promises are never fulfilled, through what results instead on a not too deep and slightly clichéd script with very little character layering and practically no story arc.
Though combining its humour and moments of gravitas with satisfying dexterity, the elements that concoct the material are, nonetheless, unable to perform the task – pushing too hard for the laugh to happen or counting on too many overused traits for their personages it very hardly comes as entertaining; let alone, owning an identity. We’ve just heard it before so many times, and it’s not given to us in much of a believable manner, not because what we’re told couldn’t happen (at the end of the day, it’s a simple tale featuring simple events), but because the dialogue fails to flow either as gripping or insightful.
Wistfully, when the rendition has finished, one can’t help but savour a mild aftertaste of inconclusiveness – sensing that the true conflict has only been established by the finale, thus having taken us on, much unfortunately, the wrong ride as for both the characters and our, as audiences, evolution. In addition, though the actors give a committed portrayal, there’s very little chemistry projected between them – preventing us from bonding with that connection that’s thought to be the key component of the recount.
A good effort regarding its intentions, Cold Water sprinkles some tiny bits of radiance through the outline of its themes, but it’s still far away from channelling its potential into the tidal wave of artistic force it’s expected to drag us under. Further verity and openness to the author’s own personal truth are crucial for the play to get to the level so far it can barely scratch. It has the means to do wonders, but that could only be achieved through crude realism.
Cold Water plays at London’s Park Theatre until 1 June. Tickets are available on the following link.
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