Sometimes the spirit of the times is expressed in a single word: this month, as the nation slumbers in the middle of a general election campaign, that word is “posh”. Not only is it the title of Laura Wade’s play at this new writing venue’s main stage, but it is also used repeatedly in DC Moore’s The Empire, a play staged in the studio theatre upstairs at the Royal Court. Posh is a pretty hot word nowadays – provocative because of all the fuss about David Cameron and his cronies being public school toffs – and so these dramas seem to take the temperature of the times.
Wade’s account of rich young men behaving badly is broadly based on the antics of the exclusive all-male Bullingdon Club. As they gather for one of their blowouts, the 10 Oxford undergraduate members of the aptly-named Riot Club aim to get wasted and smash up the rural pub where the event takes place. From the start, however, things begin to go wrong and, by the end of the evening, a terrible crime has been committed.
Wade expertly pins down the attitudes of the privileged and their mix of venomous contempt for modern life with a nostalgia for the past glories of the aristocracy. Their rage at social change is palpable and so is the fact that these young bloods have never left the playground. Yet they aspire to be Britain’s ruling class – Cabinet members in the making.
Like a metaphor for the nation, the old traditions of the club – which suddenly materialise in front of our eyes in a marvellous coup de theatre – sit uncomfortably next to more recent innovations, just as the members sport iPhones as well as archaic waistcoats. At the same time, these young bloods turn out to be pretty inefficient, ineffective and cowardly. It’s the common people, represented here by Chris the landlord and his daughter Rachel, who seem to be the most balanced, reasonable and grown-up.
Lyndsey Turner’s excellent production, on Anthony Ward’s colourful and claustrophobic set, fields a cast of 14, with Leo Bill particularly impressive as the impassioned Alistair and David Dawson enjoyable as the poetic Hugo. Equally memorable are Daniel Ryan as the level-headed landlord and Simon Shepherd as a Tory MP whose presence underlines the politics of the play. With its excellent music, thanks to James Fortune, and sharply-drawn climaxes, Posh is a satirical, humorous and finally chilling view of
the upper classes – and a really fine metaphor for Britain in 2010.
By contrast, DC Moore’s The Empire is a scorching 90-minute real-time drama that explores the attitudes of British soldiers serving in Helmand Province and offers an insight into the mentality of those who oppose them. Here it’s not the metaphor of an imperial past, but the legacy of its disappearance that is the main subject.
After a skirmish in which the British forces, supported by the Afghan National Army, have sustained some casualties, Lance Corporal Gary finds himself looking after a battlefield prisoner named Zia. But when Gary discovers that his charge is a British citizen, his commanding officer Simon orders him to be taken to headquarters. Gary – whose mate has just been killed – has other ideas.
In Mike Bradwell’s forceful production, on Bob Bailey’s blindingly hot set, the class issue comes to the fore in the relationship between Gary and Rufus Wright’s Simon, a public schoolboy whose right to rule is challenged by both Zia and Gary. Much of the tension of this taut and thrilling play depends on the tough and credible performances of Joe Armstrong as Gary and Nav Sidhu as Zia, who may or may not be an innocent bystander. Sitting in the audience of this convincing war play feels like you’re watching a low-burning fuse while being in the sights of a high-powered sniper rifle.
