Savio(u)r present 'Autobahn' by Neil LaBute

By E.L. Hardy

Neil LaBute’s Autobahn has come careering across the pond, and parked up at the Kings Head theatre for its London premiere. And the premise is an interesting one: According to the final play in this Short-Play Cycle, we (or Americans specifically) spend approximately one eighth of our lives, on the road - in a car. So with that large percentage of time in mind, it seems justified to stage some of the stories and dramas that unfold between a driver and a passenger on life’s literal highway. (It also seems surprisingly neglectful of other contemporary playwrights for having mostly emitted it thus far). However, unlike ‘Locke’ starring Tom Hardy, where one character's life is explored over the course of a car journey lasting the length of the movie, Autobahn consists of seven, disconnected, one-act plays, all set in the front two seats of a car.

This framing device means that there is no need for complicated staging. The characters converse, sat side by side and facing outwards, for the duration of each play; this draws our attention to the filmic detail of the performances and the pedantic exploration of LaBute’s language - the unsettling discourse between each pair.

Autobahn is an irrefutably wonderful showcase of these actors’ versatility. The talented cast of four embody fourteen characters between them - switching from privileged daughter to neurotic girlfriend or enraged wife in the few seconds that it takes to remove a jacket, put on a hat or manoeuvre from one side of the car to the other. The women, in general, aren’t well represented by LaBute but Sharon Maughan and Zoe Swenson-Graham play their embittered, victimised, weak, batty and daft roles with great gusto. Swenson-Graham is entirely at ease throughout, embracing and revelling in the comic strands of her characters, lifting what could otherwise feel like a relatively dark two hours of theatre. Meanwhile, Maughan has intoxicating gravitas that allows even her silences to glare powerfully outward.

Henry Everett and Tom Slatter too have an extensive range to portray, yet they are (in each embodiment) beautifully subtle and brilliantly bold. Everett transforms seamlessly into all of his four roles, and is especially strong - if horribly creepy - as the driver in Road Trip. Likewise, Slatter excels as Guy in Bench Seat, demonstrating both attention to detail and comic flair. The manifestly clear vision of director Tim Sullivan has given each of the four actors a solid platform from which to launch headfirst into this challenging and, at times, severe play.

The only trouble is that as soon as the audience get to grips with a character and a relationship, the short play is over and we are re-routed to a different part of the country and a wholly unrelated scenario. Redemptive of these abrupt shifts is the shrewdly incorporated use of video and music that transports us speedily along America's highways to the destination of the next play.

Unfortunately, the fabric of each play is very much the same. The plays being, as they are, back-to-back, expose LaBute as being texturally formulaic and, in this instance, on repeat. I understand that it is the common threads of humanity that knit these plays together but, like a magician who performs his greatest illusion too often, the mechanisms start to show and the mystery wears thin. For instance, the first play, entitled Funny, is remarkable for the older woman’s silence throughout; this builds unbearable tension and reveals more about the relationship than words ever could. However, the effectiveness of this technique dwindles when it is used again in All Apologies, again in Long Division and then again in the final play, Autobahn. In short, it grows tired.

Each play follows a similar structure: Starting in the midst of conversation (one-sided or otherwise), the audience are drip fed information until they are finally plied with exposition. Turn left down Revelation Avenue, change gear and set off to do the same thing all over again... six times over. Adding to this repetition is a distinctly familiar voice that pops up in each of the seven plays – a voice deeply concerned with linguistic accuracy and the slipperiness of language. One that questions, corrects and toys with their partner’s (or their own) use of words; continuously calling the lingo into enquiry. The voice, which I can only attribute to LaBute himself, is consistent (if not always suitable for the character doing the speaking) and so by play seven, we’ve heard enough.

It is logical that people think of the car as a good place to drop a bombshell or to unload baggage because, let's face it, a driver can't react too violently when driving, or simply walk away. For this reason, Autobahn is a smart and innovative exploration of human behaviour and communication and well worth seeing. Fortunately too, Savio(u)r have cast delightfully able actors who wring every syllable of life out of LaBute’s complex and layered work. However - like with our eventual flagging of enthusiasm towards classic car games, such as I Spy - we’re ultimately driven around and around the same plot for about forty minutes too long, winding up somewhere, I’d say, around the bend.

Savio(u)r present:

Neil LaBute's Autobahn

King's Head Theatre, Islington

27th August - 20th September 2014

For tickets and further information, click HERE

@postscriptjour

#reviews