£5380
£12620
2015
Islands at Bush Theatre, London W12
IN THE wake of recent revelations about global wealth inequality, you’d think that any play tackling tax evasion would provide a welcome blast of radical reality to the invariably apolitical fringe theatre scene in London.
Unfortunately, and despite the best of intentions, Islands by Caroline Horton isn’t that play.
Intended as a satirical allegorical exposé of the machinations of the super-rich and powerful, Horton sites the play’s action on Haven — in what appears to be a post-apocalyptic swimming pool — where debauched deity Mary (Horton) rules the roost over two sexually ambiguous offshore overlords (John Biddle and Seiriol Davies).
“I’ve got all the cherries,” she croons at the opening and what ensues is a scatological demonstration of exactly what that means for Adam (Simon Startin) and Eve (Hannah Ringham), the caricatural prole inhabitants of Shitworld floating some 30 feet below Haven.
They gullibly swallow Mary’s devious blandishments on why unbridled wealth creation is most definitely not for the likes of the toiling masses like them.
Eventually, the financial shit literally hits the fan as “Northern Cock” and “Peaman Brothers” melt down and it seems as if the “natural” order might be reversed.
But, as Horton cynically demonstrates, that’s nothing a bit of faux-lachrymose soul-searching and promises of more “transparency” can’t fix.
And, in what’s a pretty bleak conclusion, it’s clear that Adam and Eve will be ultimately left to foot the bill as they face up to swingeing austerity measures, despite the fact that in the latter’s case the political coin appears to have dropped.
The show, directed by Omar Elerian, is an ingenious concept and it’s ably performed and staged.
But after close on two hours of relentless allegory the intentionally puerile humour rapidly palls.
Reality itself is biting far more sharply than this.
Runs until February 21, box office: bushtheatre.co.uk
Len Phelan
