Review of ‘Relics’: “Family-matters play is rather urkel”

Money brings out the worst in people. And sometimes, the worst in art, too. That is, if anyone is able to find it in Ben Ockrent’s latest attempt at dark comedy, whose thought-provoking premise fails to translate into compelling storytelling, and whose soap-operatic style confuses grip and variety with campiness and an overloaded plot.

Four siblings gather following the death of their sick mother. Some of them haven’t seen each other in a while. Not even her mum’s condition was a strong enough reason to bring them back together. But something else might.

Things take an unexpected turn when Jonny, one of the eldest brothers, asks if he can keep the painting hanging in their mother’s bedroom. Everyone is fine with his request. Everyone except their younger sister, Michelle. She knows Jonny too well not to suspect any ulterior motives. And it doesn’t take long for her to be proven right. From then on, a different picture unfolds. And it’s not a pretty one.

There’s so much that could have been done with this concept. And so much that should have been avoided. Sadly, the script can’t take credit for honouring either notion — all its possibilities are severely neglected, while cliches, clunky lines, and other basic executional mistakes are given carte blanche.  

On the whole, the piece comes across as extremely insecure, as if the idea of a relatives’ reunion wasn’t powerful enough to focus the drama on. Instead, a plot twist involving an unpleasant World War II-related discovery takes over. And although that could have set up the tone for an insightful comment on family disillusionment, personal reckoning, and self-identity, all that we are offered is a vacuous, predictable tale about greed, with next to no introspection to cash in on.

All the efforts to bring depth to the characters backfire, making them artificial and overemotional. None of them experiences a fulfilling arc. There’s no transformation. Nor is there growth. Consequently, every role is exceedingly one-dimensional, lacking the authenticity and individuality that are crucial to building a connection with the viewer.

Every other aspect of the recount feels just as unnatural. The dialogue, for starters, struggles to convey any flow or truthfulness. The conversations are hardly credible, as the expositional elements display no subtlety whatsoever. And many times, they are presented in an overly convenient manner. The result is a highly unconvincing text, where it’s the characters– instead of the actors –that appear to be reading a script.

Its absurdist approach rarely has the intended effect. For the most part, it’s the right opposite. Cutting off an escalating situation with a flamboyant lip-synced rendition of Total Eclipse of the Heart is clueless at best and annoying at worst. Add to that a slow-motion section of fraternal rivalry, and the implosion is imminent — with barely anything to rescue afterwards, if there ever was.

The company doesn’t do much to save the day. Although some performances are decent, none of them actually excels. Sally Phillips delivers the most acceptable portrayal as Olivia, which still exudes flair and magnetism despite some slightly mechanical reactions. On the contrary, JJ Feild disappoints the most with his kitschy, almost cartoonish interpretation of Jonny, which is completely devoid of nuance and layering and ultimately demonstrates no resourcefulness.

They had the themes. And they had the basis. What they didn’t have were the tools to move anywhere else. Although some segments are somewhat entertaining, Relics earns little to no praise due to its overall poor dramatic choices and clumsy rendering. It had the potential to resonate on so many levels. And to captivate audiences through an arresting story. Wistfully, unlike their mother’s precious possession, this piece has scarcely any value.

All pictures credit to Marc Brenner.

Relics plays at London’s Lyric Hammersmith until 18 July. Tickets are available on the following link.

By Guillermo Nazara