Review: J [a working title], The Space

J [a working title] is a compact and pacy two-handed work that strips theatre back to its bare bones.  In the austere but spookily impressive surroundings of The Space on the Isle of Dogs we find ourselves in the company of J (Everleigh Brenner, also writer of this piece) who is riding a bus on the way to her mother’s funeral. J’s problem is that she is to deliver the eulogy in one hour when she gets there and she hasn’t done it yet. Scribbling furiously in her notebook from the outset, someone else boards the bus: Jay (Per Carminger) who represents nothing more at this stage than “a friendly face.”

What emerges is an energetic but chaotic ride that swerves more like a dodgem than a bus. Delineated by a series of scenes that are called out by the director from the gallery and accompanied by abrupt changes to lighting spots and background sounds, we travel through a huge range of scenarios at breakneck speed. The initial changes are somewhat frenetic and it took me a while to get a sense of what I was being presented with. There is no doubting the energy and versatility of the two actors on stage but the combination of the somewhat brassy acoustic of the bare and lofty surroundings, the background effects (and in particular Scene 18 with the music) along with some swallowed syllables and dialogue delivered at speed, means a substantial part of the detail is lost. 

That said, there is no getting away from the level of creativity and imagination on display here.  As the writer, Brenner has dug both deep and wide to avoid conventional tropes around grief and try to offer something different. She is certainly generous in this function. Despite having the title role, the lion’s share of the script falls to Carminger as Jay who somersaults through numerous roles including, but not limited to, the mother herself (superbly done!), a brother and a lover. He never loses his footing as he cascades through these characters, emotions and different intensities and the production’s success owes a lot to his skill. As his counterpoint, Brenner herself is somewhat limited in her ability to express herself simply because she is almost never without the notebook in which she is trying to write the eulogy. This constrains her ability to look up, connect and emote: whenever it feels like a moment of emotional intensity is reached she sits, puts her head down and scribbles furiously. Thankfully, towards the end of the journey the moments became more tender and she has chances to look up and out, giving us a better glimpse into her character.

A number of devices are used to connect themes, such as chewing gum, grilled cheese and the musicians The Carpenters. However, the overall effect is rather muddled. I have the feeling that the creatives for this production were crystal clear about their intentions and the manner in which they would deliver on them, but somewhere down the line they lost sense of their audience. Grief is a universal subject and relatively easy to use to engage an audience, but the somewhat surreal and frenetic structure meant that my focus was constantly on making sense of events and not engaging my emotions.

This is a fun ride but ultimately too challenging in ways that it needs not be. Nevertheless I look forward to seeing what emerges next from Brenner’s pen as I sense a fresh voice emerging with original perspectives on life.

Written by: Everleigh Brenner
Directed by: Maria Cristina Petitti
Produced by: Hoo Hah House Productions

J [a working title] plays at The Space until 15 February.