Review: Goner, Battersea Arts Centre

‘How do we look at culturally specific narratives against a backdrop of thrilling, bloody and psychological horror?’ is the question Marikiscrycrycry (aka Malik Nashad Sharpe) forefronts in Goner. A highly experimental piece, it mixes dance and spoken word to create a visceral, visual language from a marginalised perspective. 

The Goner enters the stage, back to the audience, and begins to dance. Dance hall beats play as he performs, using Caribbean dance styles with lots of booty shaking, grinding and hip thrusting. Humorous at first, this continues for fifteen minutes, which ultimately is far too long. These repetitive movements lure the audience into a false sense of security and just as attention is waning, we are hit with a dark turn; he turns to us, revealing his alarmed face as blood spills from his mouth. Here is where things start to get interesting.

From behind a large structure covered in opaque plastic, he begins to dance again, but this time with more defined, slowed movements. Striking imagery is created, from hanging by a noose to jaunty arms stretched out, reaching; continually hinting at something sinister occurring. After blood is splattered (again, a moment lasting far too long), he emerges through the plastic, ripping it with his hands as blood drips down his body. Perhaps an indication of rebirth or breaking free, a continued seeking for meaning is placed on the audience. 

Finally given some narrative, The Goner sits on a rug, not facing the audience, as he gives a monologue about how he murdered his seven friends. At first this appears to be a recording but when he eventually faces us, we see the microphone in his hands, accompanied with a piercing look of revelling in the horrors being revealed. His subsequent bursting out into song, seemingly remorseless, offers a moment of humour; it’s a device littered throughout to momentarily release the rising tension and unease. Is The Goner doomed to this fate? Hopeless and lost, was there ever the possibility of a different outcome?

This unreliable narrator makes us question the truth of his story, pushing back onto the audience so they introspectively confront the difficult topics that arise. Migration, alienation and violence are considered through the aesthetics of horror from a marginalised perspective, asking spectators to consider how they contribute to the creation of a monster. This culminates when The Goner is shot multiple times, a striking image that recalls the many Black people who’ve faced brutality by law enforcement over the past years. But it doesn’t stop there: The Goner jumps back to life and when ordered to dance by a creepy voiceover, he obeys. It seems we have moved to a prison environment as the voiceover repeats “222 you will be punished”, before he completely loses it, smashing and throwing objects. Underscoring political issues around the Black experience, Marikiscrycrycry refuses to allow us to shy away, forcing us to look and confront these images. 

Whilst many of the scenes feel disjointed and confusing at points, Marikiscrycrycry’s stage presence is undeniable. One cannot turn away, his strong and unnerving movements make a bold statement. Requiring audiences to interpret a lot, a little more guidance or context would make this piece feel more complete, though it certainly did its job of instilling psychological horror as I left Battersea Arts Centre feeling an overwhelming sense of uneasiness. 

Choreography by: Malik Nashad Sharpe
Musical direction by: Tabitha Thorlu- Bangura
Set design by: Felix Villiers
Lighting design by: Barnaby Booth
Costume design by: Erik Annerboth
Dramaturg by: Jay Miller
Musical composition and sound design by: Luke Blair
Voiceover: OBOBOB
Project production: Michael Kitchin

Goner plays at Battersea Arts Centre until Saturday 10 May.