A visually stunning and well-crafted horror that has plenty to admire but perhaps doesn’t quite equal the sum of its parts. Summary
Rating
Good
Where to even begin with Norwegian theatre company Susie Wang’s Burnt Toast? Without a doubt it’s an extremely clever piece of theatre, from the staging that allows all sorts of wonderment, sound that provides everything needed for a piece of surreal horror, and a carefully crafted script packed with Easter eggs galore giving knowing nods to classic cinema. But as much as I could sit back in admiration, it failed to quite connect, for me at least.
It all begins rather mundanely, and oddly, as Danny (Kim Atle Hansen) checks in with eager-to-please receptionist Betty (Julie Solberg). Every word spoken is protracted, drawing out their Southern States twang, every action deliberate and exaggerated. It’s all ponderously, deliberately slow, leaving us on edge waiting for something to happen. The introduction of new mother Violet (Mona Solhaug) ensures things are dragged out even further as she and Danny meet. Oddities become more obvious, their conversation accelerating quickly from first hellos to an uncomfortable intimacy. It leaves us questioning quite what is going on and where or what this hotel really is. Beyond that, to reveal more would absolutely be spoilers, but suffice to say it all gets more peculiar and more gruesome as Danny and Violet present a microcosm of an abusive relationship played out over the space of an hour, complete with some truly incredible imagery.
It’s clever. Very, very clever. The toxic relationship is smartly worked, every little piece of their first conversation suddenly taking on whole new meanings when later repeated back in accusational tones. A harmless observation that “you’re so small” later becomes a statement of belittlement, whilst noticing a small stain on Violet’s blouse similarly goes from a harmless comment to severe criticism in recollection as Betty pushes her to spot the toxic signs.
Elsewhere things are exacerbated to the point of annoyance, again deliberately. Betty’s typing and chewing of her gum echoes around the room, as does the slurping of drinks by Danny and Violet. Everything is amplified, to make us away of every small detail, to put us on edge as we try to ignore them. There’s a sense they are testing us with these little annoyances, as if asking if we were there, would it drive us to breaking point?
Visually it’s just as impressive. The simple set of a reception desk centre stage in front of a blood red wall and two lift doors is surely a nod to The Shining, but the set has hidden secrets. The only real complaint with the design is that with the raked seating looking down onto the stage, sightlines are affected when the action is happening at floor level, and with some of the incredible visual fetes going on it is a shame that you don’t always see them clearly.
Yet as clever as all the elements are, at times it begins to feel a chore to get through to reach the final payoff. Yes, there is value in forcing us to consider their meaning, and there is enjoyment in spotting the various references or trying to piece things together, but that can only go so far in making a show truly enjoyable. At times I found my mind drifting.
But if you want a show that will absolutely create conversation afterwards as you debate with your plus one what the hell it was all about whilst marvelling at the staging and what they do with a small briefcase, then Burnt Toast really has a lot to offer. It’s undoubtedly one that will stick in the mind for a long time afterwards!
Script and Direction by: Trine Falch
Scenography by: Bo Krister Wallstrøm
Music and Sound Design by: Martin Langlie
Lighting Design by: Phillip Isaksen
SFX by: Fanney Antonsdottir
Stagecraft Design by: Antti Bjørn, Jon Løvøen
Stagecraft Live by: Simen Ulvestad, Oscar Solløs, Viola Hamre
Dialect Coach: Sarah Valentine
Produced by: Susie Wang
Burnt Toast has completed its run at Battersea Arts Centre
