Told as a relationship between a man (ostensibly the author) and his addiction, the piece starts lightly with a juvenile experience with beer. Before long, the successful director is being feted and lauded for his creative output, with work projects landing thick and fast. But accompanying the pressure to meet everyone’s ever increasing expectations, comes a need to offload anxiety, confidence issues and other human failings which will invariably work to undermine the most successful among us, and especially those operating in the creative arts.
Ed Coleman heads the cast of three as protagonist Steven, who works tirelessly and sometimes delusionally to hide his ever present need for a drink to get him through the day. Morning meetings, lunches, rehearsals and cast gatherings all become bearable and manageable through his dependency lens, and before long, the list of individuals who are prepared to cover for him or excuse his 7 day benders, rapidly diminishes. Ultimately, at a figurative and literal crossroads, he phones his mother who stays on the call all night to guide him back from the brink and subsequently deliver her own revelation.
The play’s title is derived from the casino chip which is awarded to those attending Alcoholics Anonymous who express the desire to begin the long road to acknowledging and overcoming their addiction. As the play progresses, terminology is neatly inserted into scenes in which members of Steven’s family, close friends and work colleagues are played by Ashlee Irish and Mara Allen. The process manages to avoid being didactic or patronising, achieving instead, a level of relatable hilarity which on occasions pokes fun at society’s opinions and approaches towards the issue.
Matt Ryan sharply and intuitively demarcates the players on designer Lee Newby’s largely bare playing area which although minimally dressed, is frenetically populated with props. Many scenes also benefit from patches of dialogue being supplemented with sound effects by Max Pappenheim to support the pace, which rarely lulls. Even the production’s stage manager Rosie Morgan (who is visible throughout) is thrown a line or two, adding to the AA Meeting inclusivity of the piece.
THE WHITE CHIP runs 90mins straight through (without interval), and plays at the Southwark Playhouse Borough, until 16th August.