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How entertaining? ★★★★★
Thought provoking? ★★★☆☆ 25 July 2012
This a theatre review of POSH. |
“This is a club for getting f*cked and f*cking things up.”
“I smell of defeat. Not me, the other chap.”
Writer Laura Wade take a bow, your play is fantastic. A biting and gripping state of the nation address. Those not interested in politics can sit back and wallow in mesmerising drama and performances. Bar the prologue and coda, POSH is set in one room: a private dining area of an out-of-town country gastro pub, where a group of ten Oxford University undergraduates are meeting for their once a term club dinner. The Riot Club. Any similarities to the Bullingdon Club, which the current PM, Chancellor and London Mayor were members is up to the audience. The Riot Club is exclusive; only blue blood, private school, super-wealthy, Caucasian men. A launching pad for future members of the Conservative Party. The selection process is not delved into.
“I smell of defeat. Not me, the other chap.”
Writer Laura Wade take a bow, your play is fantastic. A biting and gripping state of the nation address. Those not interested in politics can sit back and wallow in mesmerising drama and performances. Bar the prologue and coda, POSH is set in one room: a private dining area of an out-of-town country gastro pub, where a group of ten Oxford University undergraduates are meeting for their once a term club dinner. The Riot Club. Any similarities to the Bullingdon Club, which the current PM, Chancellor and London Mayor were members is up to the audience. The Riot Club is exclusive; only blue blood, private school, super-wealthy, Caucasian men. A launching pad for future members of the Conservative Party. The selection process is not delved into.
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We are looking at the privileged going through a crisis. No longer is there a guarantee of jobs and a natural place at the top, coupled with a societal backlash. The age group about to leave higher education are insecure and frustrated. The rift between the haves and have nots never been so wide in generations, perhaps since the Great Depression. The recession, bankers’ bonuses/LIBOR fixing, MPs expenses and phone tapping have created a seismic anger and frustration. And POSH delves into the zeitgeist like few do.
We are not attending a sermon or a soapbox, instead we watch a witty drama driven along at breakneck speed. We are deftly introduced to the young as they arrive and pop in and out of the room. Once all are present, various minor agendas rear up: Two are vying for the presidency, while two newbies are keen to avoid embarrassing themselves, and another is awaiting club punishment for previous excess hitting the newspapers and the “allumniati”, now in public power, showing displeasure. They are meant to be friends but the comments and undermining are barbed, aiming to wound. A CLOCKWORK ORANGE-style slang is bandied about, words like “beasting” and “scrunching”, and bastardisation of Latin, “Carpe some f*cking diem”. Added to the cracking dialogue are pop musical a cappella interludes. Incongruous and joyous. An evening of bingeing, elaborate food consumption and an atmosphere of overindulgence slowly builds. An uneasy sense pervades, though no signpost to the climax. The epilogue was an excellent last shot across the stage.
The audience are the privileged ones for a couple of hours.
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