Review: No President, Queen Elizabeth Hall

There is a fine and thrilling line between innovation and indulgence in avant-garde theatre. No President, the long-awaited London debut from the Nature Theater of Oklahoma at the Queen Elizabeth Hall, tragically doesn’t so much tiptoe along that line as plunge headlong into the abyss of self-satisfied absurdity. Conceived, written and directed by Pavol Liška and Kelly Copper, this two-hour-plus exercise in seemingly aimless experimentation offers little in the way of insight, artistry or coherence and squanders every ounce of goodwill from an audience that, judging by the steady stream of early departures, hoped for so much more.

The premise, such as it is, concerns Mikey and Georgie, two actors reduced to guarding a theatre curtain, whose existential plight is complicated by the arrival of rival security guards, a ballet-trained troupe of cheaper, faster, artistically ‘superior’ performers. That’s the setup. What unfolds instead is a relentless, surreal yet unfunny narration layered over a purposeless physical theatre display, neither ballet nor drama, occasionally punctuated with infantile gags about erections, masturbation and a pointless obsession with Cheetos.  

Despite a sizable cast supported by a significant corps de ballet, the overall effect resembles a primary school music and movement lesson set to Tchaikovsky’s ballet music. Any expectation of interplay between sound, movement and narrative quickly disintegrates. A sudden emergence of a track by Adele at the moment that we were informed was the end of Act 1 drew low ripples of laughter, but it could just as easily have been relief from the tinnitus-like monotony of the narration, or the alluring promise of an interval we had already been warned would not take place. 

At well over two hours, No President feels less like a piece of theatre than a test of endurance. Walkouts began at the twenty-minute mark. They became a flood by the hour point. One audience member shouted “Rubbish!” repeatedly, and the ensuing commotion suggested they may have been removed. My companion for the evening, an experienced reviewer with four decades of experience under his belt, made a bid for freedom himself 75 minutes in and later declared via text message that it was the worst thing he had ever seen. My own resolve to remain was driven more by obligation and a perverse sense of endurance. Even that resolve faltered when the show abruptly halted for a medical emergency in the audience at around the two-hour point. It became a strange, sad punctuation mark to a deeply disheartening night. I took the opportunity to visit the toilet and emerged to find that the trickle of leavers had become an unstoppable tsunami. The audience had seen the medical emergency as a polite opportunity to effect an escape and vote with their feet. Not having the stomach to rejoin the show, nor act as a gawping bystander to the poor audience member who had sadly taken ill, I have to admit I joined them.  

There’s no joy in writing a negative review. Most theatre, even flawed, contains sparks of something: passion, talent, surprise, risk. But No President appears to have none. It is disheartening to see generous public funds allocated to hosting something that, for all its avant-garde posturing, seemed devoid of actual talent. In a city so rich in home-grown, truly groundbreaking, low-budget performance, this was a bitter pill to swallow. Theatre should provoke, surprise, challenge or even confound. But it should also reward its audience’s attention. No President offers only bafflement, frustration and, finally, relief when it ends.  

Directed by Pavol Liška and Kelly Copper
Dramaturgy by Florian Malzacher
Set Design by Ansgar Prüwer
Costume Design by Jenny Theisen
Lighting Design by Maarten Warmerdam
Production Management by Luka Curk
Technical Team: Nohemi Barriuso, Leon Curk, Hanna Marlene Schnell

No President plays at the Queen Elizabeth Hall until Friday 11 July.