From the creator of ADHD: The Musical comes a semi-hallucinogenic exploration of belonging. After an unsettling welcome paired with deadpan humour, the nameless lodger takes the dust sheets from the objects strewn around the stage and orchestrates the story. I was lost for the few minutes during the lodger’s own initial perspective, but the story soon developed into a compelling journey through place and possession.
Dora Colquhoun plays 5 characters and gifts each one their own physicality. Most impressive was her representation of the unspeaking female deer, which was an impressive feat of physical storytelling. Furthermore, the play-world that is conveyed through The Lodger is theatrically inventive and unique. Through the recurring props and reappearing characters – all fighting to stake their claim in this story – a weird yet warm world of familiarity is created. Imbued with soft lighting, the play-world seamlessly shifts between the familiar urban environments, and the hunted deer in the wilderness of the forest.
Peppered throughout the piece are nods to ‘belonging’ on a nationalist scale. For example, the audience is encouraged to sing along to a well-known Christian hymn, which is quintessential to the British primary school experience. Adding to this are the Butlins scenes and the Strictly Come Dancing motif. Most notably, the storytelling is interweaved with folkloric songs, thanks to the musical accompaniment of George Jenkins. They act as reminders of our national memory and large-scale sharing of language, history and experience. Meta-theatrically, the show also asks of its audience to ponder its own sense of belonging: asked to hold our ‘masks’ and hug ourselves, we come to realise that we are a community of strangers.
It is not long before the threads of belonging unravel. We watch as, amongst other unsteadied characters, Kelly the red-coat-hopeful goes from dancing cheerily at Butlins’ ‘Adult Break’, to eventually being dismissed by the company. Towards the end of the play, there is an unnerving overlapping between the wild and the urban. Annie the landlord seems to be pursuing the deer with her cane in a weapon’s pose, which provokes the burning question: who bears the right to claim space? Given Colquhoun’s varied and humour-threaded portrayals, as an audience member I was deeply invested in her characters.
Sadly, the character of the lodger closed the show with an overt discussion of belonging, which seemed to suffocate its final breaths. Adding to this, the lyrics of the final few songs seemed to state what had been previously implied. However, Colquhoun’s world (and its quirky inhabitants) is a key takeaway and it’s worth keeping an eye on her upcoming projects.
Reviewer: Eleanor Hall
Reviewed: 4th October 2024
North West End UK Rating: