Not One of These People
Royal Court
 

NORM-DODGER Martin Crimp is an acquired taste. And – as with dry January or veganism – his ardent fan-base seems to grow by the day.

The Royal Court Theatre – evidently one such fan – is presenting his latest offering Not One of These People for four performances only. Clearly hedging their bets, the theatre management aim to please the faithful, while acknowledging that most theatre goers will stay away.

And why is this? Well...  it’s an experimental piece that plays with form rather than emotional engagement and – while unquestionably a treat for devotees – leaves others feeling somewhat short-changed when they discover there is no story, no character development, no immersion in atmosphere, no situation comedy, no actual drama and no central premise... oh and no actors, unless you count the writer who reads all the voices.

As an exhibit rather than a play, the piece is composed of one single spoken snippet from each of 299 characters... one after another, after another... And given that it is a product of lockdown, you can understand why the people are replaced by digitally remastered representations and why the playwright operates alone, sometimes on stage sometimes as voiceover.

The event should count as theatre. After all, we watch together in real time; we always have something to look at and listen to; and variety steps in in the range of people’s faces – increasingly animated as the show progresses – and in the different moods and contexts of what is said.

Indeed, the whole show serves one key audience requirement: permission to watch and listen to others so they can potentially glean something enlightening about themselves. Beyond this, though, there is no elaboration and no development.

Make no mistake, Crimp is a serious artist who has been enquiring for decades now into the nature of theatre and its limitless potential. What is done, and how, is his talking point; asserting a clear emotional or intellectual purpose is not. The result: he defies expectations but leaves us wondering what exactly stands in their place.

And here is the difficulty. With director Christian Lapointe’s skilled and empathetic design and input, Crimp brings us an assured and confident artistic construction, but one that seems to mean more to him than to an audience who crave a clear dramatic outcome.

The play feels like a writer’s wild and personally obsessive preoccupation, where he luxuriates in the contents of his own head, rather than interpreting for others. It feels more like art, which is allowed to capture a single concept and hold it endlessly, than like drama which we expect to chart human behaviour in time and offer catharsis.

See Not One of These People as art by all means – some of the characters may even make you laugh. But don’t expect a play, or even to know what it was you saw, or why.