Watching Throats is an odd experience to say the least. It’s an oddly adept production of a terrible play. It’s hard to give anything in the way of background or synopsis, because nothing really happens – nothing in the way of story, at least. It’s absurd and tries very hard to be surreal, but it’s just not weird enough to grab its audience psychologically.
There’s a woman who for half of the show is just a head, a man sauntering around in heels and another who alternates between wearing a Brazilian football strip and some kind of insect costume. But why? I’ve no idea. Throats is bizarre but not in a way that is either entertaining or that makes you think.
The production and the cast, however, are really quite good. The sound design is probably the most effective part, with the first few minutes of the show taking place in the dark, with only audio to entertain us. It does a good job, and the music is well plotted in the show. Unfortunately though it’s a case of the play being so bad that nothing else is really given enough of a chance to shine through – there’s just nothing for the actors to really get their teeth into.
Gerald Thomas’ biog takes up two pages of the programme, but much of it is about his experiences with Beckett. I think we can see just who Thomas is a poor imitation of.
And in other news…
If anyone’s keeping a running tally, then you might like to know that I also paid first-time visit #71 The Palace last weekend, to see Priscilla. There’s not a lot to be said: if you love drag queens then you’ll love this show, as does most of its audience. The highlight for me was definitely the seven year old Rudi Goodman, who plays a brief role as Tick’s son Benjamin. Wearing an oversized kangaroo suit, it’s impossible not to be charmed by him. It is £3.50 for an ice cream though, so beware.