The Cast of Stereophonic at Duke of York’s Theatre - photo by Marc BrennerAt the press night I attended last week, I was literally mesmerised, but there’s no denying, this production has Marmite written all over it, and more than with any other show, you’ll either devour every second, or leave wondering what all the fuss is about. The question is, are you up to the challenge? At just over three hours (including interval), with a static set, no dance routines and a cast of seven —some of whom struggle to get along, there’s a real sense of being trapped in an terrarium full of hippie looking, potentially deadly creatures.
A five-piece band is in the recording studio laying down tracks for their next album. On the other side of the glass screen are an engineer/producer Grover (Eli Gelb) and his studio side-kick Charlie (Andrew R. Butler). Stylistically, the characters reflect the early 70’s in their hair, clothing, and much of the dialogue in David Adjmi’s play. The songs, when they come, fit somewhere between the Eagles, Cream and Fleetwood Mac, but are written by Will Butler formerly of Arcade Fire. The show’s studio engineers have an unenviable task of balancing their responsibilities whilst containing the histrionics, temper tantrums and irascibility of the artists, borne of unhealthy in-band relationships coupled with drug-taking and drinking. Mellowness and frequent moments of humour, are oft broken by furious arguments and antagonism which erupt holistically. The idea of creative validation and gender equality were a pipe dream in the 1970s and despite a notion of brotherly love, many of the show’s confrontations are triggered by the talented but sibling damaged Peter (Jack Riddiford) who demonstrates something of a control freak’s obsession with perfection, which he uses to undermine and gaslight his girlfriend singer/songwriter Diana (Lucy Karczewski). Over time, she overcomes her lack of confidence by reducing her dependence on Peter’s approval. Other characters include a substance dependent bassist Reg (Zachary Hart) whose marriage to keyboardist Holly (Nia Towle) is on the rocks until an epiphany turns him into something of an apologist for vegans. Simon (Chris Stack) is the band’s drummer and de facto leader. His mellow peacekeeper role finally snaps resulting in a 6-day meltdown due to a belief his timekeeping is being questioned and his kit has been tampered with. It is one of the funnier neuroses on display, due to the actor’s skill in lightly conveying deeply ingrained character. In fact all the players maintain a truly extraordinary ordinariness in their delivery, which results in a compelling fly-on-the-wall documentary feel. It is funny and awful in equal measure, but never less than utterly compelling.
Fractious interactions among band members, are the stuff of legend, with everyone from the Beatles, Simon and Garfunkel, Fleetwood Mac, The Eagles, The Police and Oasis (among many others), subject to notoriously acrimonious and very public break-ups. The external pressures, artistic egos and close proximity necessary when putting together an album, create a simmering pressure cauldron. In just such an environment, it was a privilege to watch over four acts, a company of such skilled and adept actors deliver a work of theatrical brilliance and originality.
