The producers
of the British Theatre Playhouse are the first to admit that they had
been producing plays mainly concerned with middle and upper class England,
and they sought to break out of this pattern with The Rise and Fall
of Little Voice. Set in Northern England and populated by coarse
characters living in distinctly slovenly conditions, Little Voice
was indeed "far from the society-salons of Oscar Wilde".
This setting befitted the play, in which poverty underscored much of
the desperation and anger that drove its main characters. Single mother,
malingering factory worker and alcoholic Mari Hoff (played spectacularly
by Sandra Duncan) is desperate for a new life, and she gets her break
when her boyfriend Ray (John McArdle) discovers that her painfully shy
daughter Little Voice or LV (Rachael Wood) has a marvellous singing
voice. A descent into greed and exploitation follows, before mother
and daughter have a terrible confrontation.
The masterful treatment of this dark subject matter by playwright Jim
Cartwright gave us a black comedy which teetered constantly on the edge
of something raw and subtle, much in the same way that Mari Hoff teetered
precariously on her white stilettos, constantly threatening to fall
apart. Little Voice enticed us to guffaw at the slovenly conditions
of its lower-to-middle class characters, only to turn our laugher into
a slightly shamed silence when their vulnerable, pathetic insides emerged.
Sandra Duncan stole the show as the loud, clownish Mari Hoff, whose
atrocious housekeeping, disastrous attempts at sexiness and alcohol
dependency were all mined for their comic potential. She was crass and
materialistic and completely hilarious. Mari's slow-witted and overweight
friend Sadie (Michelle McManus) was also fodder for jokes which fed
on the mean old tradition of mocking the unfortunate and weak.
The success of the humorous moments can be attributed to the sizzling
cast chemistry and razor-sharp direction by Alexander Holt. But less
simple - and more memorable - was how Holt wove in little lightning
bolts of brutal reality into the broad comedic moments. A put down of
Mari by Ray, a tragi-comic wistful moment when Mari tries to show LV
her tender side, or the sheer sordid desperation of Ray and his business
partner, all added to the growing discomfort of the audience. Without
this set-up, Duncan might not have switched credibly from a slapstick
character to one with pain-filled inner complexities worth exploring.
The weakest link was the character of LV. While Rachael Wood boasted
an awesome singing voice, her put-on squeak of a speaking voice did
her character little justice. It was hard to find a reason to care about
LV's painful shyness and mysterious singing ability. Perhaps there was
an endemic problem with the playwright's vision for LV - he gave the
character of LV little more than the ability to sing. A questionable
director's choice was that of vamping up LV's performance of sultry
tunes like "I wanna be loved by you" with come hither moves. I suspect
LV could not have learnt those moves from old records alone - unless
she snuck in the viewing of MTVs as well.
Wood's "sing-acting" however deserves attention for its strength, and
this was put to good use in Little Voice. In one scene where
she was being threatened by Ray, LV sang furiously but fearlessly, switching
from melody to melody like a human radio. In this scene of violence
and music, the clash of the visual and aural created an intense, destabilising
effect.
With excellent pacing, skilful acting and direction, Little Voice
turned out to be a thoroughly enjoyable and thought-provoking work. |
"A black comedy which teetered constantly on the edge of something
raw and subtle"
Credits
Starring James Cartwright, Richard Denning, Sandra
Duncan, John McArdle, Michelle McManus and Rachael Wood
Designed by Norman Coates
Musical direction by Stuart Barr
Lighting designed by Andy Lim
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