theatre in london – Hamza Jahanzeb

Photo credit: Stefan Hanegraaf

In this story of a gay American soldier’s return from war, Kyle (played by Callum Mary), returns to the world he once inhabited albeit with a serious incident (leading to PTSD), a fatal blow to one’s confidence and a tragic repeated cycle of familial trauma. What Kyle refers to as ‘only a paper cut’. Or at least that’s what he wants his nearest and dearest to take from the awful attack, but the layers to this piece are like an onion: sadly, this onion has just the sole layer. Paper Cut is a robust attempt to explore the tolls of having taken up one’s duty to fight in a war, and the way former veterans (there is discussion on how one always is a soldier) look to create a new future with life-altering injuries.

It’s quite a let down for this piece, for the aim of its creatives falls flat on many occasions. From the initial promise of the minimalist set – wood set against the back wall, with twelve glowing lights dangling from the ceiling. The soundscape that I was so eager to see transposed as the piece moved on was sadly disappointing(the scenes with the Muslim prayer felt superficial, and bordered on the misunderstanding of the religion); ultimately, the entire plot felt weak, under-developed and jarred on several occasions.

The only redeeming feature is that this is a queer love story, which is told via the eyes of a disabled soldier. That was a refreshing insight, as was it to see the main protagonist portrayed by an actor who has a limbdifference.. However, even then, there was almost a propaganda-esque in its war-portrayal, it felt heavily one-sides and did make the feel piece which alienate to a British viewer. I’m sure I won’t have been the only one. The intentions is to interrogate what makes a loyal person: is it their ability to keep a secret? One that has made them repress their sexuality(even worse, caused them mental trauma)? Or perhaps it’s their serving to their home nation that bears them with the so-called ‘American dream’? It was like a baseball game, except nothing touched barely the first base.

At times, the direction felt so incredibly bizarre – with actors on stage whilst drama unfolds- and the oddity of having a bench that becomes a costume storage unit. There was a severe lack of excitement as the drama unfolds, and lots of strong emotions that built up to no sense of relief nor moving dialogue. The silences were also quite excruciatingly long, and it felt like it was also due a cut of at least ten minutes to keep it tight.

Photo credit: Stefan Hanegraaf

To conclude, this was a complex (and layered) story that could have worked in an effective manner, given it had a huge re-focus and a tightening of the director’s vision; for me, Paper Cut was a cut too many for me to endure and enjoy.

** Note: This was a gifted (#ad) free ticket, in exchange for an honest review. The views expressed in this blog are of the reviewer, and reviewer alone. **

Until 1 July 2023
https://parktheatre.co.uk/whats-on/paper-cut/
Prices:
Previews: £12
Standard performances: £12 – £20
Access: £9

NO I.D. is a play that has transferred to the Royal Court from a short run at VAULT Festival 2023, having also previously played at Theatre Peckham.

In it, Tatenda Shamiso tells the story of his experience as a Black transgender immigrant in the UK. Using the songs he wrote throughout his first year on testosterone alongside letters, signatures and a whole lot of paperwork, he guides us through what it takes to validate Black and queer identities in the eyes of the law. What really drew me to this piece was the sheer honesty with which the viewer is given access to Tatenda’s world. That begins with a clip of him before his transition, and the audience are taken on a journey to meet their authentic self as the piece progresses.

It is so incredibly touching, funny and offers some really thought-provoking dialogue. As as for Claudia Casino’s set – a simple sofa with a lamp, with card box boxes dotted around – also brings forth the audience well into the action. The space is utilised in a great way, as we begin with Tatenda giving the audience a direct address as he moves from the sofa (changing into clothing the binary standards of society subjects us to), to then approaching the the stacked cardboard boxes which again reveal a further boxing from wider mainstream society. It got me thinking, and allowed me to be taken on my own journey throughout. Further, there is an element of realism which comes by the introduction of the real life videos of Tatenda pre-transition, where the person in front of the audience is quite literally shedding the loss of another identity: ultimately though, one that helped the protagonist to reach their authentic self. One side point, and something of note is the introduction of a (what we presume is an NHS gender helpline) phone that rings, which the audience are given an intense insight to be privy to a call. The way Tatenda dances to the beeping waiting tone was just sheer genius and added a really hilarious touch to a piece that is often quite serious in tone. The comedic timing, topped with the Tatenda’s facial expressions were really inspiring in order to bring comedy in order to point out the ridiculous nature of how vehemently inept the system is for those who are wanting to transition to the gender of their own choice.

It is, overall, a rather eye-opening and a clever portrayal of the unnecessarily cruel bureaucracy involved with having to register one’s own new gender identity. There is not one moment when I was bored, or feeling like the overarching themes was going into overkill; ultimately, it made me want to further highlight the plight trans people face, as the current system is rather chilling to the bone.

The tight 60-minute piece, performed at the Upstairs space at the Royal Court Theatre, also incorporates music; this is inclusive of a childhood tap routine which pays homage to a Anything Goes (I adored the iteration at the Barbican Centre last year with Sutton Foster) that is recreated, as well as the the overlay of his voice now to music from recordings. That in itself was really powerful, and made me well up as it demonstrated the point of visible (and audible) change so seamlessly authentic.

All in all, No I.D. is a superb piece of theatre that celebrates marginalised voices; it’s a beaming call to the lay person so offer compassion to those who undergo gender transitions (or as Munroe Bergdorf states in her book Transitional ‘In One Way or Another, We All Transition’), which is told with a searing honesty, warmth and an energy that will compel you to want to be Tatenda’s best friend.

Listing information:

NO I.D. by Tatenda Shamiso

Writer: Tatenda Shamiso
Director: Sean Ting-Hsuan Wang
Designer: Claudia Casino
Producer: Dylan Verley
Stage Manager: Ting (Yi-Ting) Huang

Cast: Tatenda Shamiso

Tuesday 18 April 2023 –Saturday 6 May 2023

📍Royal Court Jerwood Theatre Upstairs

🎟️: https://royalcourttheatre.com/whats-on/no-i-d/

All photos credit: Marc Brenner

All images feature Tatenda Shamiso