Review: VINEGAR AND BROWN PAPER, Old Red Lion Theatre
Walking out of this performance, various things had come to light in a big way; an unbelievable life lived, wonderful talent still emerging from London theatre and the fact that the Old Red Lion Theatre may be small, but do not underestimate the creations that grace its stage.
Richard Fitchett’s Vinegar and Brown Paper is an exploration of a rare and special thing, really a thing we all hope for in life, a moment that changes everything. The scene is set on an ordinary train carriage in 1868 Maine, when a young girl, an avid reader and the spark of a writer within her, discovers that Charles Dickens will be coming aboard, and Dickens discovers that she has a lot to say and after this experience, even more to do.
Young actor Beth Taylor is a wonder from the moment she walks through the door. With a consistently smooth and effortless accent that draws you in to a practically perfect performance, she is full of life and beautifully expressive. Her understanding of her character is outstanding as if she truly becomes this excited, animated, dreamy little girl. Taylor is beautiful to watch, showing amazing talent in acting and all its capabilities. As your eyes inevitably mist and brighten with the highs and lows of her experience, you will not want to take them from her. She will amount to great things.
Louise Morell, playing Kate Wiggin in her elder years, on the other hand, slightly missed the mark throughout with an accent difficult to believe in, to the point of hanging overhead and shadowing most of her performance. Even when Morell grows in confidence of voice, she remains somewhat shy and small in movements. This wonderful writing was given a voice, granted, but at first glance needed to give it more legs. In allowing her younger self to be the one to captivate you, however, we begin to see multiple new dimensions in her performance, in which she achieves an undoubtable frailty and wistfulness of a woman looking back, unafraid of keeping things subtle and sincere. Following Taylor, Morell’s portrayal also bleeds through from behind the flow of the play to heartwarming effect.
Keith Hill, as Charles Dickens, was plagued with a small case of stutters although expertly remedied through complete unflawed characterisation, an ailment shared by Taylor although never as overcome. Hill’s command of words and voice is rich and magical, meeting the heavy demands of this role entirely. His talent for comedic timing and his collaborative effort with Taylor cannot go unpraised, as he holds the character through his entire body and lets it shine outwardly with a fantastic stage presence.
An intricately well-written script by Richard Fitchett is what allows the production to shine the way it does. With incredibly effective pace and fluidity and a grasp on expression that results in lines of near poetry, you can feel his passion for the art as you sit glued to the dialogue, overcoming the contained four walls that hold it, building to picturesque as lights fade to black. We feel justified to say, as many before us have, a play by Richard Fitchett is a play you should see. Pleasing contrasts allow us the joy of watching an unlikely connection unfolding, warming to each other, and use of sound by PJ Nielsen to set the scene at the opening of the show and act as an emphasis of its intimacy go to show the world the characters create between themselves which the outside world can only break through in slight whispers.
A moment of appreciation has to be set aside for the costumes. In a fairly stationary production, speaking only of its geography and choreography of course, the eye has a chance to fall gently upon the elegant patterns, the way certain fabrics catch the light, the textures that lay perfectly together over shoulders and upon hair, the way certain choices give you that little insight into a character in a way that you can almost see elements of their life that do not play out in front of you, wild, wholesome, imaginative and sunny, complex, witty, inspired and deep, just one of the ways the design of the production sings.
Vinegar and Brown Paper is a testament to the magic of storytelling and writing, something Fitchett clearly understands and appreciates. Moments of theatricality and outburst of enthusiastic impersonations recreate that joy of being welcomed into a brand new world, especially as a child. There are moments of storytelling in all its facets, exuding all the different kinds of emotions that it can give you.
Even within the context of a train journey, very much in its regularity an experience of simplicity from point A to point B, Fitchett and Russell play with the meaning of beginning and end in very interesting ways as stories within stories allow whole experiences, whole lifetimes, fiction and real life, to play out with equal importance. Past and future meet up as the first thought of who Kate can and does become is born, things change but things are kept sacred in a charming depiction of that age old question, what if you could go back?, with all the excitement, pride, sympathy, annoyance and embarrassment that we always imagine comes with it. So human that we suspect for the actors also, the reality of themselves has blended with their characters.
A show with so much personality, and humorous, more humorous than the crowd gave it credit for. There were hums of laughter that should have been small eruptions and even worse moments of the play that could have been filled with a powerful joyful ambience but instead passed all too quickly before a crowd whose appreciation was much too inward and implicit. Remember, you really are a sounding board as a member of a theatre audience. Yes, you sit passively but don’t let moments pass you by. If everyone clapped and cheered whenever the mood struck them, no one would be nervous of doing so for worry of creating that underwhelming response that almost always leads to pity and there is no doubt we would all be doing it together.
**** Four stars
Reviewed by: Louisa Clarke
Vinegar and Brown Paper plays at London’s Old Red Lion Theatre until 9 December, with further information here.