"Better a fallen rocket than never a burst of light."
~ Tom Stoppard, The Invention of Love

Friday, July 10, 2020

Small Island (2019)


I saw a different adaptation of the novel this play is based on a number of years ago – back when I was working my way through Benedict Cumberbatch’s filmography, I saw a miniseries version of it that he was in with Naomie Harris, Ruth Wilson, and David Oyelowo. I remember liking the miniseries, but this National Theatre Live production is really well done too.

The shape of London begins to change during World War II, when citizens of Jamaica, one of its colonies, began serving with the allies. The war also shapes the lives of two women – Hortense from Kingston and Queenie from Lincolnshire – and the postwar years bring them together in unexpected ways. Queenie came to London for adventures and possibilities and wound up marrying a man who brought her anything but, but when he goes off to fight, she begins to make her own way in the world. And Hortense was brought up to hope for a “golden life” due to her light skin, but she struggles to find it in Jamaica; after the war, she does whatever she can to get to London, where she imagines a new life will be waiting for her.

As I was watching the play, I recalled plenty of the plot from the miniseries, but I really enjoy the way the play tells it. I like the way the set elements sweep in and out, some detailed and some representative, and the production uses music, narration from the protagonists, and newsreel footage to guide us through scenes across different countries and years. It’s all put together neatly, stylized without taking attention away from the acting or the story.

Obviously, with just about any story about cross-cultural encounters, especially a period piece, we spend a lot of time addressing racism in various facets of society. Every Jamaican character who departs for England has very specific ideas about what it will be like and what they’ll be able to achieve there, away from the poverty and political strife of the island, but every one is confronted by the harsh reality of the mostly-unwelcoming country that greets them. I find Gilbert’s experiences during the war particularly interesting – while he’s in England during the war, so are American G.I.s, and even though Britain doesn’t have segregation, it adopts some of those conventions to “accommodate” their American allies. Not to say that Britain isn’t racist, because we’re repeatedly shown ways that it is, but seeing British businesses kowtow to Jim Crow to make the Americans “comfortable” is really gross.

Another important point here is that not all racism is Jim Crow laws and racial slurs. We also see the systemic ways it affects opportunities. Gilbert’s dreams of becoming a lawyer are immediately met with obstacles, and even though Hortense works as a teacher in Jamaica, she’s told that her training is no good in London. Furthermore, sympathetic white characters like Queenie still carry biases. While her husband is away, she rents rooms to Jamaican boarders, and although she’s friendly and well-meaning, she’s also condescending. When she addresses the intelligent, fluent Hortense as if she can barely speak English, it’s clear Hortense won’t consider her a friend anytime soon.

Leah Harvey and Aisling Loftus anchor the piece excellently. Harvey’s proud Hortense and Loftus’s warm Queenie are everything they ought to be, carrying us through their stories as two women trying to create what they want out of life when it seems life doesn’t want to let them have it. They’re joined by Gershwyn Eustace Jnr as Gilbert, C.J. Beckford as Michael, and Andrew Rothney as Queenie’s husband Bernard, all of whom add nicely to the proceedings.

Warnings

Violence, language (including racial slurs,) sexual content, and thematic elements.

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