Review: Plenty

The world is split into people who find the greeting site of “Plenty” of a dead man full frontally naked highly amusing versus those who rise above such a trivial form of comedy and, as true thespians, see it as simply artistic expression. I am afraid to say that I fall into the first category But, as the actors of ‘Plenty’ bowed and quit the stage, I felt transformed into the thespian I had always been destined to be. ‘Plenty’ deeply moved me in a way I had only experienced second hand from (slightly pretentious) drama students. This change of heart was due to the outstanding performances of these actors.

Quite honestly, when trying to summarise the plot, nothing really comes to mind. Essentially ‘Plenty’ depicts the mental deterioration of Susan, a former S.O.E. worker, set against the backdrop of traumatised post-war Britain. But even with the lack of twists and turns the production completely entranced me. Every moment was suspenseful. Each utterance from Susan caused my face to contort into yet another different deeply felt expression.

The part that turned ‘Plenty’ into a play arguably better than many West End productions was the incredible emotional maturity demonstrated by these actors. They had to squeeze out all those entangled, painful and nuanced emotions that characterized post-war Britain and transpose them onto an audience comprised mainly of students for whom the war is becoming an increasingly distant memory. This was done to epic perfection by Grainne O’Mahony(Susan). O’Mahony is electrifying. Her red hair flitted across the stage as she spiraled into ever greater depths of mental chaos. What struck me about her ,however, was that she restrained from the all too easy temptation to over act. Susan did not go mad in a Helena Bonham Carter – esque style. Instead, she portrayed her mental problems in an understated and worryingly relatable way.

I left the Keble O’Reilly with a feeling of wonderment at the extent to which the portrayal of the ex-agent’s descent into madness had affected me. Perhaps at long last I had honed my thespian side and shall never again be amused at onstage nudity. Though unlikely, if such a transformation has occurred, I have the tentative yet tumultuous performance of these actors to thank.