Review of ‘Clive’: “One-man show featuring a cactus sidekick pricks in audience’s hearts with its dry bluntness”

The Arcola Theatre hosts the world premiere of Olivier and BAFTA Award-winning writer Michael Wynne’s latest play, exploring the struggles of an OCD-suffering man and his scars from school and wor harassment. Guillermo Nazara shares his views on the show — to let us know if its psychologically rooted drama is worth any seeds of interest.

Bully or get bullied. It’s a savage dichotomy that defines too many of our relationships. As kids, they often reassure us by telling us those days will be over once we’ve grown up. And that may be true in some cases. Yet, reality is far from the dream sequence we’d like to picture, and likes to hold a few aces up its sleeve to its amusement; and consequently, to the destruction of those who only long to be.

The scars of a tormented childhood and their influence on an adult’s mental health build the basis of Clive, a new play by BAFTA and Olivier Award-winning writer Michael Wynne, currently enjoying its first-ever run within the intimacy of the Arcola’s Studio 2. A unipersonal show featuring an IT administrator and his spiky vegetable friend, Clive (not a bitchy companion that’s fallen into a coma, just a regular cactus), the show delves into the personal struggles of an OCD sufferer, who simply tries to live in peace in a world that’s suddenly turned against him for no apparent reason.

It may not be the most original concept for a character. The track record of the eccentric yet sympathetic archetype speaks for itself. From the uptight charm of Niles Crane in the forever missed Frasier to the deliciously bitter, arrogant allure of Jack Nicholson’s powerful portrayal of As Good As It Gets, audiences have proven over and over again that they have a thing for the abnormal when deciding who they’re welcoming to their hearts.

Michael Wynne goes one step forward by granting more dignity to the role. Despite some minor initial cliches across the exposition, the play adopts a more compelling tone as the conflict unfolds, deepening into the personage’s trauma, who was mercilessly harassed for being a sensitive boy and presumed gay, and enhancing the material’s poignancy in a way that’s relevant and resonant to the viewer.

The script does display a few shortcomings in its pacing and structure. Overall, there is naturalness, flow, and truthfulness in its lines. Still, a latent sense of repetitiveness lurks through its first half — giving us the impression of going nowhere until the dots begin to connect and the drama unravels. It’s a slow burner that suddenly veers into an overly rushed conclusion — or an absence thereof, as the story’s blurred third act leaves us with a strong aftertaste of incompleteness. The elements are there, but they’re underdeveloped. And as a result, the stir its arc creates is only partial.

Regardless of these issues, the production’s general flawlessness is worth praise. Set designer Mike Britton concocts a spotless marriage between a figurative and metaphorical approach, devising a sterile, white-coated ambiance that could still pass for an actual home, but at the same time serves as a projection of the personage’s obsessive temperament — and an open canvas to be stained by the ugliness the protagonist faces.

At the same time, Paul Keating gives a satisfactory rendition as Thomas, slightly overchoreographed at some moments, but on the whole, exuding command and sincerity and regaling us with a few excerpts of genuine emotional arrest.

Bringing back a recurring topic but securing its individuality through a slightly innovative pair of lenses, Clive‘s pointy narrative is far from deserting audiences, fertilizing their interest and investment instead through an engaging delivery that may need some tweaks and revisions, but eventually comes across as a touching and mildly thought-provoking theatrical experience. It can mitigate our thirst for a relatable, universal analysis of society’s abusive essence, but it’s a few drops away from being an oasis of storytelling wisdom.

All pictures credit to Ikin Yum.

Clive plays at London’s Arcola Theatre until 23 August. Tickets are available on the following link.

By Guillermo Nazara