Based on the critically acclaimed book by Christie Watson- ‘The Language of Kindness’ is a dance theatre piece that examines the underbelly of life on the ward. Made up of an ensemble of six talented actors, were guided through a cross-section of NHS experiences. We meet nurses on their first day at work and more experienced nurses visiting patients homes. We meet young patients with brain tumours and older patients on chemotherapy. A broad range of characters, which the cast pull off well.
I must admit, before heading to the glorious Shoreditch Town Hall venue I was skeptical. I didn’t know whether I wanted to experience a piece that would still feel so raw in the context of an ongoing pandemic. But one could argue that this is the exact reason why the show needs to be experienced at this time. It shines a light on those who’ve kept so many alive this year. A character in the piece discusses the effect of these traumatic experiences for the nurses and asks ‘What’s the cost?’ What happens to a nurse after a tube carrying blood is cut open and splatters all over the wall? What happens when you watch a patient unexpectedly die from a heart attack? They joke about the lack of aftercare and respect from those higher up. With the recent debate over the one percent pay rise for NHS staff, this line of questioning does feel particularly poignant.
It took me a while to warm up to the show. For the first twenty minutes or so I felt like I was being asked to feel something. As though the actors were showing rather than feeling. In some ways, it felt as though they were trying to coax the empathy out of me. With the play being in development for the past two years, I do wonder whether some of the heart has been lost along the way.I did think, however, that two actors- Janet Etuk and Keziah Joseph- really found the heart and truth in their characters. They blurred the lines so much that at times I questioned whether they were indeed nurses, recounting their experiences. It wasn’t about naturalism, as the play has a heightened theatrical style, it was about their intention and soul that allowed them to float through the piece with a sense of ease and style.
The piece began to really grab me about halfway through, where they showed a team of staff trying to revive the life of an elderly patient. There was something about the repetitive movements that were so mesmerising. They repeated the sequence over and over again and underscored it with conversations between the nurses about their experiences. This juxtaposition between chit-chat and life or death was really powerful and exciting to see.
In moments like this, the dance aspect was successful. It added another dimension to the characters experiences. However, at other points, I didn’t really know what it added. I found it, at times, messy and distracting. Early on, the cast danced around the stage to a Florence and the Machine tune. It was reminiscent of dance sequences in plays such as ‘Emilia’ but felt contrived and lacked conviction.
Sound design by Gareth Fry was truly the star of the show. Fry, who also designed sound for shows such as Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, creates a deep, omnipresent and overwhelming (in all the right ways) soundscape which perfectly underscores the drama and heightens the already high stakes of hospital life. This works in tandem with Jess Bernbergs lighting, which switches from drab hospital lighting to colourful spotlights in a heartbeat.To conclude, I salute the ambition of the piece. Nurses are ridiculously undervalued for the jobs that they do and for a ticket price that’s only five more pounds than a posh cinema ticket, it is worth the experience. Although at times it verges on over-sentimentality it does leave you with the timely reminder that we shouldn’t just expect nurses to provide care, instead, we should ‘all look out for each other’.
Review by Max Barber
Rating: ★★★
Seat: Stalls, Row H3 | Price of Ticket: £20
