A Very Very Dark Matter at The Bridge Theatre

 Politically Incorrect? …. Tick.  Jet Black Humour? …. Tick.  Irreverent? …. Tick.  Funny? …… Absolutely.  If you thought Martin McDonagh’s previous plays crossed boundaries, they are nothing compared to this, his latest offering now playing at The Bridge Theatre. Like The Pillowman, one of McDonagh’s earlier plays, A Very Very Dark Matter centres around those often very sinister nineteenth century fairy tales.  In fact an author of such stories, namely Hans Christian Andersen, played to great effect by Jim Broadbent, is the main character.  Well, to be absolutely correct, he shares the “main” honours with Marjory/Ogechi (the excellent Kundai Kanyama) a Congolese pygamy who just happens to be the actual writer of Andersen’s tales.  Oh and one other thing …. she also just happens to be kept locked in a mahogany and glass box in the Danish man’s attic!  Not that she’s the only one helping out a great literary figure, for Charles Dickens (Phil Daniels) apparently kept Marjory’s sister in much the same way for much the same reason.

Bearing the above in mind, this play is most definitely not to everyone’s taste and if you’re easily offended it won’t be for you. In fact if I’d taken to heart most critic’s views, I might not have bothered heading along to The Bridge Theatre last night.  Luckily, I ignored their misgivings and found this, albeit undeniably strange play, apparently designed to offend, absolutely hilarious. But McDonagh always knows how to reduce an audience to guilt ridden laughter whilst delivering a serious message within the humour.

Jim Broadbent's Anderson is a vain, self-centred, narcissistic buffoon, everyone's favourite uncle in public, but with a very, very nasty underbelly in private. Only a sadist would cut off his "cash cow's" foot just because he can.  An imperial bully, much like the Belgian King Leopold II who underpins the serious aspects of this macabre piece; the one person Marjorie is determined to ultimately kill in order to prevent his slaughtering up to 10 million people in the Congo.  Wait a minute, this happens ten or so years after the death of Andersen, so time travel is also at work.  How does the lampooining of two great literary figures highlight the horror carried out by a Belgian dictator?  Is there a connection?  On the surface of it no, but McDonagh is nothing if not an accomplished storyteller and perhaps the link is the historical erasure of the misdemeanours of certain powerful figures in history, whilst the accomplishments of others with no power at all are overlooked.  For as Marjorie is at pains to mention, a statue of this brutal King was subsequently erected in his honour, whilst her endeavours with pen and paper will be never be recognised. 

One of the funniest moments is the scene showing Andersen’s famous visit to Dickens, when he outstayed his welcome by three weeks.  Broadbent is at his best highlighting the Danish author’s thick skin with his total lack of awareness at being the most unwelcome of guests with the entire Dickens family.  His complete misunderstanding of everything he’s being told is a joy. The hilarity of the situation is heightened thanks to the portrayal of Dickens and his wife, Catherine by Phil Daniels and Elizabeth Berrington.  We all know that the author liked the ladies a little bit too much, but here the sweary old letch is no match for his equally profane wife, who is under no illusion that she’s married to a serial philanderer.  And neither, come to that, are the couples’ children.

The attic of Andersen’s house is brilliantly realised by Designer Anna Fleischie with help from Lighting Designer Philip Gladwell.  If the dozens of marionettes suspended from the ceiling aren’t enough to foretell an unease of the something nasty in the woodshed variety, then the dim, atmospheric lighting certainly is. In addition the perfect timbre of Tom Waite’s voice as narrator and Matthew Dunster’s ability to realise McDonagh’s vivid imagination makes a play that might divide opinion, but ultimately showcases a playwright of immense ingenuity.