DV8 bring precision and power to the Lyttleton stage with 'John'

B.Evans

This is a raw, brutal and poetic piece of work, which I highly recommend. John tells a powerful story, invigorated and elevated by movement work of the highest calibre. Even in its intricacy, it bristles with violence and urgency. It is not perfect, but there aren't many people creating this kind of work, and you should take the opportunity to see it.

Lloyd Newson, who conceived, directed and choreographed John, intended to make a piece about men’s relationships with love and sex. He interviewed 50 men on this theme. One of the men was John. After his interview, Newson decided to focus predominantly on this one man’s story. It is easy to see why. It is a harrowing tale.

Prior to founding DV8, Newson studied social work and psychology, and he has said his academic background partly aided his ability to gain John’s trust. Perhaps it also aided him in presenting a flawed individual without judgement. John has a total of 28 criminal convictions. Aged 10, John found his mother dead from a heroin overdose. Rather than throw his girlfriend out after she cheated on him, John tried to raise the child as his own. John reported his own brother to the authorities. John feels comfortable in gay saunas. This is no morality tale. It is a depiction of one man’s life in all its complexity, which is a beautiful thing. John’s humanity shines throughout.

An astonishing start to the piece makes striking and affecting use of revolve and stillness. Hannes Langolf (giving an utterly captivating portrayal of John) walks through disturbing tableaux depicting the horrors of his character’s childhood, recalling them in a disarmingly matter-of-fact manner. It was a wise choice to keep the movement of the performers to a minimum in this opening section. The narrative is shocking, and the audience need the time and space to take it in. Gradually, gestures evolve to become more abstract, and for the remainder of the show, movement goes hand in hand with speech.

The movement comes across as organic, rather than stylised. However it is meticulously choreographed. Every undulation of the spine, every jerk of the head, every shift of weight is carefully controlled. All nine performers are experts at their craft, and it is impressive to watch. Given the intensity of the subject matter, the choreography is remarkably restrained. This is a fascinating choice. It successfully avoids any sentimentality, or self-pity, often erring towards the comical. There is a superb pas de deux depicting two light-fingered and light-footed shoplifters. The humour provides welcome relief from a rather depressing story. However, I craved a moment of release. Newson has said he doesn’t understand why dancers should pretend to be mute onstage. I agree that the combination of speech and movement is a potent one. But some things are impossible to express in words. I wanted John to be liberated from the limitations of language for a moment. I would have loved to see Langolf express his character’s inner turmoil through pure, unadulterated physicality, just once. The piece is largely narrated by the character of John. He speaks in the first person and the past tense, as you would expect with a verbatim script drawn from interviews. The theatre setting transforms the conversational confessions into direct address aimed at the audience, and this works beautifully. We feel included, never voyeuristic, but rather honoured that John is sharing his story with us. Langolf’s vocal delivery was incredibly understated. John speaks with a simple stoicism. He recalls emotional states honestly but simply: 'I was quite depressed at that time.' There is no indulgence, no catharsis, no experiencing the emotions in the present. The physical world of the play - the set, and the movement of the performers, is a million miles away from the interview room. It depicts the events from John's past. This creates an interesting distance between the movement and the words. Often John's body seems to be moving of its own accord, entirely independent of the dispassionate face and calm voice floating steadily above gyrating limbs. For me, this echoes a theme of powerlessness that runs through the narrative right up until the end. John doesn't try to shift the blame for his actions, or seek our pity, but the enduring image is of a man whose life is spiralling away from him; redemption perpetually just beyond his reach. The decision to use a verbatim script, and the resulting use of the past tense, means that the audience shares this feeling of helplessness. We are not willing the story to unfold in the way we want it to, because we are fully aware that it has already happened. This did not prevent me from investing in the story. John is a likeable character, played by Langolf with a gentle, unassuming charisma. We are drawn in. We are also reminded that this is a true story. A story that is remarkable, but which would no doubt resonate with many inhabitants of our streets and our prisons.

It is a shame that the overall shape of the piece is a little dissatisfying. It lacks a real climax. The second half is dominated by the world of a gay sauna, where John becomes a member after being released from prison. It is a world that will probably be unfamiliar to the majority of audience members, and it is incredibly interesting, not to mention entertaining, to learn about it. Clearly Newson had gathered some brilliant stories from the 50 men he interviewed, and I can see why he wanted to include them. They provide a rare insight into certain areas of male sexuality and identity. Plus there's an undeniably hilarious poo related anecdote. However, the introduction of numerous new narrative voices at this juncture is somewhat jarring. John is still present, but we see the sauna primarily through the eyes of the two men who run it. The whole section feels like a departure from the narrative. John's experience of this world, and his acceptance of his sexuality, is obviously important, but our understanding of him is not significantly deepened by the other men's stories.

Ultimately though, a slightly disjointed structure is a small price to pay for the privilege of sharing in this moving story, masterfully brought to life by an insightful director, a superb soundtrack, and a cast of exceptional performers.

John is a Travelex £15 tickets production. Almost half the seats for every performance will cost only £15, with the rest at £25 and £35. So there's no excuse not to go. Book now. If you can't make it, catch it as an NTLive broadcast in one of 550 cinemas around the UK on 9th December.

DV8 and The National Theatre present JOHN Conceived and directed by Lloyd Newson Creative Associate: Hannes Langolf with set design by Anna Fleischle, lighting by Richard Godin and sound design by Gareth Fry Thursday 30 October 2014 to Tuesday 13 January 2015 JOHN will open to press at the National Theatre in November but is also embarking on a UK and European tour which includes travelling to Vienna, Lyon, Budapest, Athens, Liverpool, Brighton, Coventry, Barcelona, Salford and Blackpool with more dates to be announced shortly.http://dv8.co.uk photo © Hugo Glendinning

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