Review: pool (no water)

I would encourage all Cambridge students to go and dive head first into pool (no water), a play that is equal parts mesmerising and maddening, brilliantly blending dark humour with the fraught dynamics of the artist’s psyche. Written by Mark Ravenhill, the play thrusts its audience into a spiralling world of envy, betrayal, and creativity – and it does so with a knowing smile.

The premise: a group of artists reunites at the luxurious home of a once-struggling-now-successful artist friend. There’s laughter, nostalgia, and a sense of rekindled connection. That is, until the friend – their gracious host – takes a devastating fall into an empty pool. As she lies in a coma, her so-called “friends” seize the opportunity to exploit her misfortune, turning her hospital room into a macabre art project. It’s a setup that immediately pricks the bubble of artistic pretensions, exposing the tangled threads of jealousy, self-doubt, and fragile ego that define the group.

Image credits: Helen LysterOne of the play’s strongest points is its audacious narrative style. There’s no linear plot here; instead, the story unfolds through fragmented monologues, delivered by the ensemble with a razor-sharp blend of sarcasm and sincerity. The actors, like performers in a twisted cabaret, speak directly to the audience, drawing us into their collective confession.

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The performers seemed to have an absolute field day with Ravenhill’s punchy, cynical dialogue. Each actor brings a unique flavour to the ensemble, transforming their characters from mere caricatures of the struggling artist stereotype into something far more engaging and bizarre. Their chemistry among the cast (Elena Cormican, Abi Beton, Em Sparkes and Izzy Lane) was great, crackling with the kind of energy that comes from actors who are clearly having the time of their lives embodying the most gloriously unpleasant versions of themselves.

Image credits: Helen Lyster

Visually, the production is just as dynamic as the performances. The set is minimalist, making clever use of projection, lighting, and sound to evoke both the clinical sterility of the hospital and the vibrant chaos of the art world. It’s a stark, blank canvas that the actors fill with their manic energy. A standout moment involves a feverish dance, performed around an imaginary pool, to the beat of thumping techno music – a scene that manages to be both weirdly funny and unnervingly tragic, summing up the play’s vibe in a single absurd spectacle.

Ravenhill’s script doesn’t just aim to entertain – it skewers. pool (no water) is a play that takes aim at the pretensions of the art world with a sniper’s precision. It forces the audience to confront uncomfortable truths about the dark side of creativity: the obsession with fame, the thin line between inspiration and exploitation, and the way artists can cannibalise each other’s pain for the sake of “art.” This isn’t a story with heroes or villains; it’s a messy portrait of flawed people doing questionable things for complicated reasons.

By the end of pool (no water), you might not have a definitive answer to the question, “What is art?” But you’ll leave the theatre questioning your humanities degree, that’s for sure.

4/5

pool (no water) is showing Tue 26th – Sat 30th November 2024 at Corpus Playroom. Book your tickets here.

Feature image credits: Helen Lyster