Tartarus and Other Stories
The Space Theatre • 16 - 20 November 2021
It has often been said that radio is one of the best medium’s for both surreal comedy and expansive drama as, when written well, it provides the listener with all the tools required to fill in the missing pictures themselves, limited only by the power of the imagination rather than the often constrained budgets of live theatre, where the audiences own imagination can be stifled by the already fully realised set of a lavish West End show, or even the precious little set afforded to many fringe theatre productions. That being said, shows in both of these categories are still able to impress in the creative way the set designers work within their budgetary limitations, but seldom have I sat in the theatre and enjoyed having my own imagination so fully engaged quite like this evenings performance of Spaced Cowboy, one of two monologues performed at The Space Arts Centre as part of writer/director Simon Perrott’s double bill, Tartarus and Other Stories.
Spaced Cowboy is a surreal, yet well written piece impressively performed by Max Easton who’s out-of-body, out-of-time musings reach far beyond the four walls of the venue, taking the audience on a journey far-out into the Cosmos where we watch as he encounters Laika the soviet space dog, one of Nasa’s astro-chimps and Eleanor Roosevelt. Shakespeare this might not be, but with only a bench, a globe, and Max in iconic cowboy attire to populate an otherwise baron stage, both words and performance begin to stoke the embers of the imagination until they become a roaring flame of vivid images that goes far beyond the possibilities any physical set could have created. Despite ultimately posing more questions than it answers, (“Do I matter? How can I matter when I am not even a thought?”), the end resonates much in the same way I remember the conclusion of Stanley Kubrick’s film 2001, leaving me trying to rationalise what I had just experienced… and it was a feeling I was more than happy to experience once again. Without such assured writing and an enigmatic performance from Easton, Spaced Cowboy could very easily have disappeared into a black hole of it’s own making… but thankfully it was as rewarding as it was challenging and made a pleasant change from some of the more spoon-fed linear narrative’s that require a lot less from it’s audiences.
Despite black holes also turning up in Tartarus, Will, the protagonist of tonights second monologue, (played by Oliver Longstaff), has his feet firmly placed on earth as he takes us on a journey through life, love and death, matters of the heart taking precedence over matters of the mind. That’s not to say there aren’t some pretty lofty questions Perrott invites us to ponder once again when, from the start, we are asked “When did you last think about your soul?”, and despite the proposition that love damages the soul, the arrival of Laura into Will’s life prompts him to conclude that “Without true love we just exist”. Deliriously happy together, there is already a pervading atmosphere that such unbridled happiness can not last, Longstaff playing his character with a nervous emotional energy portending that all is unlikely to end well. The impact of this feels slightly diminished by the length of the journey we are taken on in order to get to the main thrust of Will’s story, but once again Longstaff is engaging in the role and effortlessly brings the audience onside.
Whereas we were left never really knowing if Easton’s cowboy was actually ever alive in tonights opening monologue, in the second offering we are served a stark reminder of our own mortality, and the effect it has on those that are left behind. “Make the most of every second as there is no peace in death” we are told. Sound advice indeed, and never more pertinent with the threat of another lockdown looming large on the horizon, and the chance that theatrical experiences like tonight could yet be taken away from us once again.
★★★★