Can’t Stand Up For Falling Down

Corpus Playroom, 7pm, Tue 19 – Sat 23 Feb 2013, £5/6

No matter how shit you’re feeling when it comes to Week 5, there are definitely always people worse off than you. The characters in Richard Cameron’s Can’t Stand Up for Falling Down are testimony to this fact. That isn’t to say it should be avoided in favour of something a little less intense. It’s just an advance warning: this is pretty heavy stuff.

Perhaps in the intimate venue of the Corpus Playroom we are to expect nothing less. Three women, three stories and one bastard in the middle whose shadow looms over their intertwined lives. Though we never actually see Royce Boland, we feel his ominous presence is inescapably part of the whole performance. In fact it’s impressive just how many characters can be created almost entirely through the medium of monologues. Although all three women are always on stage, when the spotlight hits the individual they have our undivided attention.

Beginning with three seemingly unconnected stories of teenage pregnancy, young love and childlike innocence, as the threads unravel it becomes clear that each one played a part in one overarching story of misery and destruction caused by Royce Boland. As we are fed details crumb by crumb we witness their lives slowly disintegrate and even begin to hate this man ourselves. To make us despise a man we’ve never seen, or even heard, is some feat, and testimony to the powerful production which was clever without being pretentious.

The strength of this play undoubtedly lies with the acting. Convincing, evocative and respectful of the demanding roles they had to embody, the actresses held our sympathy throughout. Abandoned and pregnant at eighteen, Jesse Haughton-Shaw as Ruby gave a moving performance as a single mum trying to forget her past, whilst Lili Thomas as Lynette had us in her hand as a woman trying to avoid her present. Chloe France as Jodie accomplished the commendable feat of avoiding a grating childish demeanour in her portrayal of a frightened ten year old – she instead inspired genuine pathos.

It was a shame that, in a production of and about voices, they had chosen to use previous recordings to enact the voices of minor (offstage) characters. With even Royce’s voice being recreated or imagined effectively by the women themselves, it seemed odd and dissonant to have an alien voice echo across the speakers.

We may not have enjoyed it, but this is not the kind of play you ‘enjoy’. It was engaging, provocative and, in a weird way, life-affirming. This certainly isn’t a way to evade the dreaded Week 5 Blues, but it will give you the motivation to power through, and remind you that life exists outside the bubble.