[CONTAINS SPOILERS]

Winner of the Soho Theatre’s biennial Verity Bargate award, Pastoral is a stark look at humanity, juxtaposing surreal comedy with an unsettling darkness that lingers for a long time after the company take their bow.

A plant is growing through the carpet in Moll’s apartment. Voles are strutting out of Paperchase. It seems that nature is trying to reclaim its earth with wildly spreading weeds, fighting back against humans who have manipulated it for so long. A prevalent reminder that nature, that we find so inherently beautiful, can be destructive. Moll is told to prepare for a holiday, but soon she finds herself trapped with her two sons. A married couple are trying to evacuate as well, with their courageous 11-year-old son despite not having any food to survive.

Thomas Eccleshare’s imaginative first play has a subtle power and strength behind it throughout. Moll’s shrewd commentary on the street action below her flat window was flawlessly delivered by Anna Calder-Marshall, evoking all the laughter she could in her hilarious rant about “the fat”. Calder-Marshall played Moll skillfully and naturally, fully developing her eccentricity, without allowing her to become a caricature.

Moll finds a companion in Arthur, played by Polly Frame, whose boyish gestures and mannerisms capture the essence of childhood. However, she fails to match Calder-Marshall, allowing her performance to be slightly too exaggerated, perhaps reminiscent of pantomime, particularly in the over-the-top hunger mime accompanying an amusing tribute to doughnuts.

The audience find themselves laughing at the absurdity Pastoral shows, drawing on the apparent humour of a fully-grown man struggling to capture a tiny hedgehog. But the laughs quickly die as a more frightening tone sets in. This is mirrored in the memorable deterioration of the set, including a collapsing floor, growing tree and daffodil darts falling from the sky: a clever touch by director Steve Marmion.

The final image of Moll slow dancing and sharing a cigarette with Arthur, her young knight without shining armour, was strangely touching. Both were left abandoned by society, deemed too weak to escape. A bride-to-be appears in the auditorium fully equipped with fairy wings, tutu and personalised T-shirt, but this sight, which previously was laughed at, now instills a sense of grief as she delivers her powerful wedding speech.

Pastoral’s black comedy has such force, making the entire play incredibly sobering. As the pressure begins to mount for the starving group, they turn on their visitor: along-awaited Ocado deliveryman who suffers as the group succumb to something of a Lord of the Flies mentality. It’s easy to shrug off the act of violence at first. But once you are reminded that these six people are stuck in the flat starving to death, the question is: what would you stoop to?

Pastoral is playing at the Soho Theatre until June 8. For more information and tickets, see www.sohotheatre.com

Every so often, perhaps once in a generation, an actor can seem to have been born to play a role. Sir Laurence Olivier as Richard III, for instance. In The Hothouse, on now at Trafalgar Studios, the opposite is true: the role of Roote was born for theatre royalty Simon Russell Beale to play, despite Russell Beale arriving on this earth three years after The Hothouse.

Simon Russell Beale is quite frankly superb. The sweat dripping off his bright pink brow while he frantically paces the performance space with wide-eyed panic and desperation – often with a Christmas hat perched perilously upon his crown, or wide-framed glasses clutched manically in fist – is testament to the work he puts in, even managing to get a laugh as he plucks out the word “rapist” from his quivering lips.

Despite being first performed in 1980, Harold Pinter penned The Hothouse in 1958, arriving at roughly the same time, and sharing roughly the same themes, as Anthony Burgess’s A Clockwork Orange. The ‘hothouse’ itself appears to be some form of correction centre, an institution placed somewhere between prison and hospital where inmates are impregnated or murdered, and where an unnerving collection of wires and paraphernalia is used to enter people’s minds and ‘improve’ them, for the benefit of wider society. There are no names, just numbers, and even the staff are known by their cold and flavourless monosyllabic surnames: Roote, Gibbs and Cutts. This is complemented by the excellent set: a vacuum without soul or joy with washed-out greens and chipped tiling, whilst an ‘Exit’ sign looms ominously in the corner, rich in Jean-Paul Sartre-esque symbolism.

Whilst some of Pinter’s work may be a little methodical at times, there is not a sentence, a pause, a movement or a facial expression in The Hothouse which doesn’t work to pull the plot along, driving the action forward. The political undercurrent, whilst still strikingly obvious, is thoughtful rather than overwhelming and is often morbidly witty, none more so than when Gibbs (played with calculating menace throughout by John Simm) and Cutts exchange Christmas felicitations and compliments of the season before carrying out an obviously painful psychological experiment on young staffer Lamb (Harry Melling, now all grown up from his Dudley Dursley days in the Harry Potter series). The satire is biting and playful, yet always potentially darker than it may first seem; the way the production flips so effortlessly between high farce and dark (often murderous) tension unsettles the audience enough to ensure full concentration at all times.

The Hothouse may well be a vehicle for Russell Beale and Simm, but their performances are no doubt completed by the excellence on display by all members of the company. John Heffernan clearly enjoys his camped-up performance as the aptly named Lush, a man whose personal brilliance is believed only by himself, and although we sadly don’t see much of Clive Rowe – a true gem of London theatre in my opinion – his charisma and warmth even manage to momentarily breathe life into the deliberately dour set. Indira Varma’s highly sexualised Miss Cutts springs about with an energy much appreciated in an otherwise all-male production.

The ‘war on terror’ and the deconstruction of suspects’ identities has fuelled a new breed of writers and plays, seen right now for instance at the Soho Theatre with its production of Glory Dazed. Yet the current political context also works to provide a sharper resonance and new relevance for plays that have gone before. The Hothouse is a play of such faultless quality that it slots into any time and space, and still finds interesting things to say. It also stars the British stage’s greatest professional. Put simply, it has to be seen.

The Hothouse is on at Trafalgar Studios until 3 August. For more information and tickets, see the Hot House West End website.

It took me a while to warm to Maria Friedman’s production of Merrily We Roll Along. At first I didn’t quite get it. I was bemused rather than enthralled, as song after song appeared to fall by the wayside, seemingly surplus to requirements. I remembered reading that when Merrily debuted on the Broadway stage in 1981 it closed after just 16 performances, and I feared that I now understood why. Merrily’s many musical numbers appeared to pause the action, clumsily placed in between dialogue rather than acting as a vehicle to drive the plot forward.

Never have I experienced such a conversion mid-show; the stylised ‘tits and teeth’ so ably performed by the entire ensemble melted my cynicism and I finally understood the meaning, message and method of Merrily. This production is undeniably naff in places, but deliberately so; it revels in its high camp, it is self-empowered by the knowledge that the audience is in on the joke. If this is cheese, then it is a high-quality gorgonzola, epitomised best by numbers such as ‘Old Friends’ in Act I and ‘The Blob’ in Act II.

Merrily is set backwards in time; the action starts in the 1970s, where we meet the embittered composer Frank Shepard, whose penthouse and collection of hangers-on masks his pain and unhappiness at the compromises he has made to his art. Alongside Frank is the grouchy Mary Flynn, now apparently reliant on alcohol, whose razor tongue is still able to burst any pretence of pomp and ceremony. Notable by his absence is Frank’s one-time musical partner, the lyricist Charley Kringas. From this low point, the action retreats to the successes and first signs of trouble in the 1960s, to the early days of idealism and excitement in the late 1950s. The fact that Merrily ends on such a high, with the future looking so bright for the trio, lends the piece a thoroughly tragic undertone, the audience streaming out of the Harold Pinter Theatre leave feeling both nourished and empty at the same time.

With such boisterous energy from the entire cast, it may feel a little mean-spirited to pick out any for particular praise, yet Jenna Russell, who impressed so much during her turn in Soho Cinders at the Soho Theatre last summer, appears in her element as ‘Noo Yoiker’ Mary, effortlessly demanding attention without ever stealing scenes. Mark Umbers as Frank and Josefina Gabrielle as the feisty Broadway star Gussie Carnegie are reunited here after they last shared the stage in the excellent Sweet Charity down the road at the Haymarket a couple of seasons ago. Both provide solidly gutsy performances.  Clare Foster is sweet as Frank’s ex-wife Beth, and proves her musical theatre worth with her solo song ‘Not A Day Goes By’.

This is multi-Olivier winning Maria Friedman’s professional directorial debut, which she compares to “one big game of Sudoku… There are so many elements that need to fit together”. Friedman, a good friend of musical theatre royalty Stephen Sondheim, who has provided the music and lyrics, excels in her transfer from on-stage to off; indeed, this could be the start of something very exciting, especially if little sister Sonia remains on-hand as producer.

A final word has to be said about hair and costume: at times garish, with emphasis on mid-60s Op-Art fashion, at times stylish, with sleek lines and fitted jackets, but always witty and laced with meaning. It is clear that Merrily’s talented wardrobe team have had as much fun as the rest of the company.

Behind the greasepaint and choreography (most impressive incidentally, at the opening of Act II), there is a poignancy in Merrily We Roll Along. It says more than it originally lets on. There is a wisdom amongst the silliness. This is where Merrily’s power lies. It took me a while to become immersed into Merrily’s world. But I’m very glad I did.

Merrily We Roll Along is on at the Harold Pinter Theatre until 27 July. For more information and tickets see the Official West End Merrily We Roll Along website. Production image by Tristram Kenton.

UK theatre has a rich heritage of work outside theatrical spaces, from schools to site-specific and from universities to prisons. But theatre and film company Second Shot Productions is doing something a little bit different. Based within the walls of HMP & YOI Doncaster, the company works with serving prisoners, ex-offenders and others. With projects ranging from film-making and graphic design through to drama and arts projects, offered in both custodial and non-custodial settings, Second Shot arrives at Soho Theatre next week with its unique show, Glory Dazed.

Who are Second Shot Productions?

We’re a company and trade for profit, but as a social enterprise all of that profit is invested back into our projects. We’re committed to providing education, training and employment to serving prisoners and ex-offenders, and using the arts to facilitate positive change. To that end we currently employ 15 serving prisoners at HMP & YOI Doncaster who work for the company full time. They are trained to deliver our services whilst working towards a BTEC in Creative Media Production.

The ideas and stories we explore in our theatre productions tend to be those that have some kind of relevance to prisoners and ex-offenders. We have worked with our team at HMP Doncaster to look at theatre as a way of exploring restorative justice and drugs awareness, for example, and then performing these pieces on the wings of the prison so as to make them available to as much of the prison population as possible. We also produce regular children’s plays in collaboration with students studying Applied Theatre at Central School of Speech and Drama which allows the prisoner participants’ families the chance to come and see a different side to their loved one as they perform on stage.

How does being based within the walls of a prison affect who you are as a company?

It allows us to work towards reducing reoffending by offering training and education in theatre, film, design and music that may otherwise be unavailable to those serving custodial sentences. Working at Second Shot is seen as a privilege by those who work for us and in them we instil a sense of pride in doing something constructive with their time in prison.

Working in a professional job for the first time can be daunting when you’re not in prison, but it is an opportunity to learn how to hold down a job upon release, whether that be in the arts or not the fundamentals remain the same.

It’s also important for us to allow our team to explore talents they may have or just be developing if this is their first chance of working in theatre and film; some are very natural theatre practitioners whilst others have a great eye for film or turn of phrase for journalism. In developing skills in these areas, the team comes together on corporate projects as well as those designed for the BTEC.

Where did the idea for Glory Dazed come from?

I’d been working at HMP Doncaster for a few months when the Governor, who was also new to the prison, asked if I’d noticed that many of the prisoners seemed to have had experiences in the Armed Forces before they came to prison. I hadn’t noticed it until that point, but it struck me as true and I started to do a bit of research. I discovered that some organisations working in criminal justice think that as many as one in ten of the UK prison population are ex-servicemen, although the Government puts the figure a lot lower than this.

Could you tell us a bit about the show itself?

Glory Dazed tells the story of Ray, a returning soldier who turns up, after hours, at his mate’s pub in Doncaster, looking for his estranged wife. It takes place in real time over an hour as Ray tries to win Carla back, only to discover that she is seeing his mate Simon. The story unfolds to reveal the truths of Ray and Carla’s relationship but also the reasons why she stayed with him for so long.

The play is also Second Shot’s first full-scale professional theatre production. We rehearsed it at HMP Doncaster so that prisoners and ex-offenders could take part in the project as stage managers, set builders, graphic and web designers, photographers, film-makers and musicians.

How did it develop during theses early stages at Doncaster?

We began with a number of discussion groups involving ex-servicemen serving prison sentences at HMP & YOI Doncaster. The men discussed their experiences of both being in the armed forces and their return to civilian life. To varying degrees they revealed difficulties with alcohol, aggression and multiculturalism, and a deterioration in their relationship with their families.

Following these discussions I took away all the information and developed a story and the opening section of the play. This was taken back to the ex-servicemen, this time through a number of drama workshops run by the play’s director, in which they were asked to improvise alongside professional actors, to further develop the characters and the story. This helped to provide further ideas and insights from which a first complete draft of the play was written.

What was the relationship like between the writer and the ex-servicemen involved in creating the show?

It was a great experience working with the ex-servicemen. In follow-up sessions, they all said that they found the process really interesting and valuable, to be able to share their experiences in this way. By the end of the development process I’d like to think there was a mutual respect between the ex-servicemen, the actors and me. They were very frank about what they were willing to discuss, but I was adamant from the outset that Ray wouldn’t be based on a particular person and that none of the stories in the play would be real. I was more interested in trying to find an emotional truth than in depicting something that had actually happened to a particular individual. Some of the stories that the ex-servicemen told were harrowing and very moving, but it would have felt exploitative to put these experiences into a play.

Has the production evolved much over the past year from visiting the Edinburgh and Adelaide festivals?

Yes, the show has changed since its first festival run and that’s for a number of reasons. Due to availability, we had to recast the role of Leanne and that meant that there would inevitably be some changes as to how the actors worked together as a different group. The original cast members had the opportunity to re-examine their roles between the two tours as well and this meant that when rehearsals for Adelaide started, they had each gone on a journey with their characters since playing them in Edinburgh. That showed through in Adelaide as they became increasingly comfortable in each role. I also think that having to consider how aspects of the play would go down with an Australian audience made everyone focus more closely on how each character could engage with the audience and this brought an added edge to the performances as well. The overall result is very positive, because now the play has an intensity to it that has only developed over time. The sense of urgency and desperation of the situation makes it feel very claustrophobic and I’m hoping that this will be further heightened at Soho Theatre.

What kind of issues are you trying to tackle with the production?

When we began the discussions, we started by considering the question: why do so many ex-servicemen end up in prison? The ex-servicemen provided varied and interesting answers that were in part what I was expecting and knew to be true, about lack of support and reacclimatisation to civilian life, but they also raised things I hadn’t considered, like certain personality types being drawn to the army, and how these might be the same personality types who could find themselves in trouble with the law. I don’t know whether this is true or not, but it seemed like an interesting thing to explore.

The ex-servicemen were all different ages and had served in a number of different places as a result, but it seemed that age didn’t dictate whether you were more or less likely to have difficulties when leaving the forces. Some struggled because they went from a very regimented life to a much freer one. Many had seen really horrific things and had either received very minimal or no counselling to deal with those things. Some of the men were from backgrounds where they felt they had very little opportunity and that going into the Army had merely postponed the almost inevitable downfall of becoming involved in crime and being imprisoned. Some had been discharged from the Army because their mental stability had been in question, though this wasn’t followed up in their civilian life. Some, particularly those involved in special operations, talked about being trained as killers, but not ‘detrained’ when those skills were no longer required. Some of the men mentioned a big drinking culture in the army and that for many years, periods of leave had been characterised by getting very drunk and getting into fights. While the army was in some way tolerant of this, the men found themselves in trouble with the police when they behaved in the same way on civvy street without the army’s protection.

Finally, what can audiences expect from the production?

Sometimes people ask where the humour comes from in such a bleak theme, but I think even the bleakest stories have humour in them, for the simple reason that human beings are funny and our sense of humour is almost at its sharpest at moments of adversity. One of the things that really stood out about meeting the ex-servicemen was that they were quite witty and funny and enjoyed a very entertaining banter with each other. This is also true of prisoners generally in my experience; there’s a certain gallows humour that is generated when human beings share difficult experiences together.

Hopefully they will see it as funny and entertaining but also because the characters are believable, audiences will engage with them and the themes raised in the play. I think characters that behave badly but are still likeable are very attractive to audiences, because we’re all flawed but we all have redeeming features.

Glory Dazed plays at Soho Theatre Upstairs from 23 April to 11 May. For tickets and more information, visit http://www.sohotheatre.com/whats-on/glory-dazed/.

Image credit: Alex Brenner