I can’t believe that a year ago I had not even heard about the Kiln and now it is becoming a favourite of mine. The plays it shows may be less known, definitely less advertised and maybe a little less polished, but they are thrilling, engaging and memorable. And to top it off, the scenography is superb – each time I have been, it has felt like entering a different venue; and the acting – breath-taking.
To my defence, I do live south of the river and consider the two Vics, the Bridge and the Southwark Playhouse to be my local haunts. But I am very glad that last year I was tempted by the sound of ‘Handbagged’ and made my way up on the Jubilee to Kilburn. I have been back a fair number of times, most recently to see ‘Retrograde’ -Ryan Calais Cameron’s second drama, about a dilemma faced by Sidney Poitier during the McCarthyiste era.
This is going to read like a blog about my own ignorance, but I have to admit that I did not know much about Sidney Poitier beyond some latent memory of having seen ‘Guess who’s coming to dinner.’ I did know that he was the first Black performer to win the Academy Award for best actor and a pioneer and trailblazer in a period of acute racial inequality; I most certainly did not know that he had been associated with left-wing causes or that he had friends who, at the time, were considered radical and politically risky. I knew nothing about his involvement in the civil rights movement.
I did not know much about the McCarthyiste era either, recalling the meaning of ‘McCarthy witch hunts’ but not having learnt about many of the details. Needless to say, I had no idea that in the 1950’s Poitier was pressured to sign a loyalty oath twice.
I also did not know the meaning of the word ‘retrograde.’
My ignorance did come with a significant advantage – it meant that I watched the play completely oblivious about what was going to happen or how things were going to turn out. This added to my enjoyment tremendously. So do not worry, if you do not know all the background – you are guaranteed to be sitting on the edge of your seat for the best part of the 90 minutes that it lasts.
This ‘three-hander’ does not come with a trigger warning (or if it does, fortunately I did not see it) – so the sharp dialogue is like a punch in the gut that leaves you gasping for breath – you don’t expect to hear “Oh shit he is double-black” coming out of the mouth of a white actor on stage. A stark reminder of those times – but when you listened to the murmurs from the very diverse audience – clearly words and tones that continue to be encountered today.
The exchanges are at times brutal, at times passive-aggressive and rife with microaggressions. The pace is set by the ticking clock on the wall, and it does not let off. It is, for the best part, brilliant. But there are moments when it feels too much and therefore almost like a parody. This also because the two characters with which Poitier interacts are less credible than the star – Parks and Bobby seem to flip and change tack constantly.
The first time Parks does this, it feels like a credible interrogation technique – good cop and bad cop rolled into one. But after a while credibility is lost. In respect of Bobby, it feels like the playwright could not make up his mind about the character he was developing – ally, white saviour, friend, spineless worm. I am not sure if this is intentional – to make the star shine even brighter? as a parallel to the noble characters Poitier was initially limited to playing? to illustrate the schizophrenia of the time? Or maybe the play requires a little more polish.
But the character of Poitier has been written incredibly, even if at the end it does stray somewhat into pathos. And the actor does an astounding job of portraying how the multi-faceted dilemma tears at Poitier’s soul – self-realisation, betrayal, compromise, friendship, career, doing the right thing now and potentially not being able to do more good later, family’s welfare. Watching this play it is hard not to ask yourself – what choice would I have made in those circumstances?