|
|
 |
| |
Cherry Docs |
Sympathy with the devil?
REVIEW: CHERRY DOCS
King's Head Theatre
HOW should a man be judged?
By his actions, or his ideas?
Mike Downey is a neo-Nazi standing trial for the murder of a Pakistani clerk. He admits the killing, but not it’s premeditation. Can his personal views be separated from his crime?
David Lyons, who plays Mike, is a young actor who used to be in Brookside. He takes full responsibility for starring in the failed soap; the show’s promotion even banks on it.
Can his performance in Cherry Docs, an acclaimed Canadian play that has toured the world, absolve him? Can we learn to forgive?
As it happens, Lyons is in spirited, determined form as the troubled young skinhead who turns to Eric Loren’s liberal Jewish lawyer, Danny Dunkleman, for help.
“In a perfect world I’d have you eliminated. In this world I need you more than anybody,” he tells him in a slightly unfocused Irish Canadian accent, jutting out his jaw.
Dunkleman is understandably reluctant to take on the case, but his affected philanthropy and healthy streak of egotism finally win out.
It’s the first of several well-observed comments on human nature in David Gow’s intelligent play, although Gow does not manage to dodge cliché completely. The hard-nosed lawyer who’s “married to the job” shtick is overdone.
Minor quibbles aside, there’s much to enjoy. The two characters defining themselves obliquely through their prized possessions: for Dunkleman, his father’s prayer shawl; for Downey, the cherry-coloured Doc Martins of the title which are his accessory to murder.
Gow is trying to thread a fine needle here, as one of his characters puts it, and if at times the ebb and flow feels a little disjointed, the message remains on-point: that wherever possible we should refrain from passing judgment on each other at all.
Until October 19
020 7226 1916 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
