A well written, insightful depiction of the difficulties, absurdities and general irreverence of young adulthood. Summary
Rating
Good
What is it really like being fresh out of university? Is there a choice besides being thrust into either the cutthroat corporate world or crippling uncertainty? How can we navigate our early twenties armed only with a creative or humanities degree? These are the questions Madeleine Sanderson’s Bloody Knees asks and perhaps begins to answer.
Staged in the cosy downstairs of the Libra Theatre Café, Bloody Knees has a quintessentially young British feel from its set design to writing. Almost an exact replica of every university house in the UK, the set is simple but unavoidably familiar with its mismatched pint glasses, scruffy sofa and nostalgic early 2000s posters.
The protagonist is Cass (Sanderson), a somewhat directionless, drug-fuelled twenty-something living with her begrudging best friend Georgie (Lara Ibrahim). The central women juxtapose embodiments of what seems to be the only two pathways presented to young people after education. Sanderson’s Cass is witty and destructive, often breaking the fourth wall in Fleabag-style asides. She is a perceptive depiction of the unemployed, ambivalent and disillusioned graduate in stark contrast to her flatmate. Ibrahim’s Georgie is the go-getter (or the commercial sell-out, depending on who you ask) with the nine-to-five internship and therefore apparently with her life together. The pair have a friendly rapport with moments of palpable love and tension between them.
Additionally, there are some enjoyable performances from the supporting cast members, who bring a fun and sometimes slapstick element to the production. A little refinement here, with the blocking of certain scenes and projecting voices more clearly, would improve the performance further.
Despite dealing with some potentially troubling topics like drug addiction, sleazy bosses and the chaos of one-night stands, the play reads as a dark sitcom with a humorous overtone. The piece is layered throughout with clever references to nostalgic British TV. For example, one scene turns the foreplay for casual sex into a gruelling interview from The Apprentice. In fact, the entire show is glaringly reminiscent of many beloved sitcoms. The central relationship a key example; think Miranda and Stevie, or Mark and Jez, or Fleabag and Claire. It is the stoner versus the worker.
Here is where it becomes clear that the writing is the true star of this production. The erratic versus the composed friend is a common trope of shows dear to the target audience for Bloody Knees and the comparisons do not stop here. The lapsing fourth wall, internal monologues, and hallucinogenic scenes also feel common of early 2000s BBC sitcoms – something the play itself addresses. These elements make the performance accessible, and the tried-and-tested self-deprecating dark humour plays perfectly with the young adult audience. The script is infused with vulgarity, updated references and recognisable slang and therefore feels authentically funny throughout.
As a twenty-something creative graduate myself, I can confidently say the writing hits the nail on the head. Bloody Knees is a brilliantly observed commentary on the very real experience of trying to navigate the post-uni abyss. It taps into the all too familiar world of job interviews, stifled creativity, emotional unintelligence and longing for simplicity. The script manages to expose the difficult realities of this uncertain period whilst remaining realistic about the stakes and implications – above all remaining comedic. Whilst there is room for refining some of the acting choices made beyond the script, I thoroughly enjoyed this production. It is relatable, hilarious and embarrassingly honest.
Cast: Madeleine Sanderson, Lara Ibrahim, Jaeyen Lian, Charles Wolrige Gordon, Joseph Wolffe, Yolanda Witt Palomares
Written and Directed by: Madeleine Sanderson
Assistant Director: Sam Allen
Lighting design by: Glenn Griffin
Sound design by: Dan Ward
Bloody Knees plays at The Libra for one performance only.