ASHLEY NEW reviews UCL Drama Society’s Punk Rock, revealing the value in theatrical treatments of delicate subject matter.
Despite being a regular at the artsUCL scene, I can count on one hand the number of times I have been sincerely blown away by a UCL production in its entirety. Punk Rock is, without a doubt, one of the strongest theatrical pieces I’ve seen staged here in a long time.
Set in a grammar school in Stockport in the early 2000s, the play pulls few punches. Despite the setting, playwright Simon Stephens retains little of the nostalgia with which we often reminisce upon our schooldays, and instead plunges the audience headfirst into the viscera. Lilly Cahill (Vinnie Trivedi), a transfer student from Cambridge, is quickly befriended by the intelligent but awkward wallflower, William Carlisle (Seth Robinson). She is shortly acquainted with the typical school archetypes: Bennett Francis, the school bully (Rudi Rance), Cissy Franks, his book-smart belle of a girlfriend (Alexandra Viktoria), Nicholas Chatman, the soft-mouthed jock (Ben Francis), Chadwick Meade, the school’s erudite punching bag (Nikolas Kunesch), and Tanya Gleason, Cissy’s inconspicuous, yet well-meaning, sidekick who is persistently picked on (Eloise Johnson). As the play progresses, it reveals itself as an uncensored critique of school-based toxicity and the dangers of indifference towards it, containing scenes of intense physical and verbal assault. Seeing the protagonist gradually descend into psychological distress with no avenue for support, the show makes a poignant critique on the consequences of lacking mental health care for young people. With most of its characters hailing from Stockport, Punk Rock is also a commentary on the class divide between the English North and South, with many characters often expressing a yearning to move away. Rife with violence and expletives, the play pushes the characters to their breaking points, rendering it a watch as riveting as it is uncomfortable. For those expecting the wide-eyed wonder of Stephens’ previous work like The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time, you will not find it here.
If the crudeness of the text isn’t enough to provoke a strong reaction, Tallulah Hamilton-Barr’s direction (assisted by Albany Maddison) will ensure such is achieved. Her interpretation draws the audience right into the anarchic ecosystem that is school: the Bloomsbury Studio makes for an intimate space, where every emotion, moment’s hesitation, or sideways glance cannot go unnoticed from any angle. This lends well to the verisimilitude introduced in the pre-show, with the students milling about and interacting with the audience in character. While I initially dismissed the quasi-immersive staging as yet another production’s shallow attempt at originality, it proves instrumental to Punk Rock’s success, especially during the final few scenes. Staged in thrust within a blackbox studio theatre, we are brought right into the common room where the action occurs (in the original text, it plays out across various rooms, but keeping it in one location was to the production’s benefit). Within this cesspit, we follow the seven angsty adolescents as they flirt, belittle and torment each other in the weeks leading up to their A-level mock exams, hurtling towards disaster. Along the way, we are confronted with the complexity of school relationships and how peer dynamics can easily corrupt one’s sense of right and wrong, stuck in an insular environment where everything feels like the be-all-end-all. And, in the context of this play, perhaps it really is. It is from the edges of this space that we watch the events of the play unfold, practically a part of the story yet powerless to stop the characters from racing to their demise.
Sat in the front row, I felt the whirlwind of talent unleashing, with tour-de-force performances from Robinson and Rance. Familiar with their previous work, I was taken aback by how vastly these characters differed. Robinson, who tends to gravitate towards comedic and larger-than-life characters, is refreshing to watch in a role that demands meekness and extreme naturalism, strikingly showcasing his range. Rance, on the other hand, swaggers onstage with an ego as exorbitant as the gel in his hair, stealing our attention from the get-go. The terror he inflicts on his costars and the audience alike belies his youthful visage, and is captured by his commanding voice and presence—chilling even in the softest of whispers. Trivedi shines in her depiction of Lilly’s nonchalance, both in regard to her self-harming tendencies and the bullying she is witness to. While we set out keen to root for her, this gradually morphs into disdain as we watch her remain a passive bystander. Put in her shoes, however, would any of us do otherwise?
In the role of Cissy, Viktoria is both passionate and reactive, with small responses that, to the keen viewer, give her character a real comedic edge. Francis seems perfectly cast as Chatman, quiet, charming and endearing; yet behind the angelism he is equally complicit in the bullying taking place. Casting Kunesch was a particularly strong move; in a play that is as much about regionality as it is about school politics, his European-accented delivery easily alienates Chadwick from the other characters, singling him out as a target for harassment and bringing a whole new layer to the bullying he suffers.
By the end of the play, however, I surprisingly found myself most drawn to Johnson’s portrayal of Tanya. She sets out seemingly vapid and relatively indistinguishable as a student (befitting of her character, I must add), with little of her peers’ bold characterisation. Yet over the course of the play, her willingness to stand against Bennett in spite of her timid nature reveals her to be the true heroine of the play—a gradual change that Johnson embodied remarkably naturally. In fact, I spent most of the play’s climactic scene watching her as she hid behind the lockers, her fear so palpable and genuine it left me utterly terrified.
Cast aside, what really set this production apart from others I’ve seen at UCL was its pacing. With a narrative that hurtled irrevocably towards tragedy, any lengthy gaps between the action would have broken the masterful flow of Stephens’ writing. To my delight, there were none. Entrances were strong and right on cue, with snappy dialogue and only one set change. Between scenes, segments of punk-rock music blared from the speakers, sustaining the show’s fast-paced rhythm. The result? A seamless, polished production that screamed “well-rehearsed”.
If there was one thing I would have loved to see more of, it would be attention to detail: despite its setting in Stockport, only one of the actors spoke with a Northern accent. Considering the explicit reference to Lilly’s Southern pronunciation in the first scene, and the desire expressed by most characters to leave the town, incorporating more regional accents would have driven home the North-South divide Stephens hints at. Additionally, there were some seemingly inconsequential (but certainly noticeable) incongruencies in characterisation that broke the suspension of disbelief. For example, Robinson’s boldly long, bleached-blonde hair, and his perceptible sense of ease in his body, seemed uncharacteristic of William Carlisle, originally described as a still, shy loner. Nonetheless, the strength of his performance kept this from being too much of a hindrance.
Small issues aside, Punk Rock was a captivating watch, and, with three sold-out shows, clearly one of great demand. Marking a triumphant directorial debut for Hamilton-Barr at UCL Drama, it proves a testament to the cast and crew’s maturity in outwardly approaching such delicate themes. And, perhaps, it provides a strong justification for why we should not shy away from art that deals with difficult subject matters—in the right hands, it can make an exceptionally powerful statement.
UCL Drama Society’s Punk Rock ran from 25-27 November 2024 at the Bloomsbury Studio.
Featured image: Seth Robinson as William Carlisle. Courtesy of Lee Jun Yan.
