Twitstorm seeks to be a serious commentary on the far-reaching effects of social media. It is certainly timely, considering the plethora of current examples of public figures giving vent by Tweet. Alas, Twitstorm might be relevant, but it lags behind on the entertaining front.
Tweetstorm: A rapid succession of connected posts on the social media application Twitter, often in the form of a tirade.
Twitstorm may just prompt a tweetstorm of its own. This new play by Chris England addresses political correctness and pushes the concept to its limits.
Two of his previous plays have been very successful and produced in Edinburgh and the West End and ultimately made into films. Twitstorm, now in its world premiere season at the Park Theatre, is not in that league.
The premise of the story is the downfall of ‘national treasure’ television personality, Guy Manton. An off the cuff, ill-conceived, deplorable racial comment he made to a few people in his own kitchen is posted on his Twitter profile…by someone else, Ike. The remark was passed off as a joke by Manton but understandably Ike, the brunt of the joke, sees it differently. The tweet sets off a chain reaction of virulent proportions. Manton loses his job, his wife and child – everything that was his world.
At the start, the style of the show seems tacky 70s sitcom, with only canned laughter missing. Sporadic forced laughter from the audience takes its place. There is husband and wife, Gary and Bex, who appear to be models of domesticity and normality, despite Guy’s best friend who is in love with Bex.
Enter a twist to shatter domestic bliss – in the form of the arrival of Ike, the grown-up child from Africa that Gary and Bex gave charitable support to by long distance – ‘just a little debit’. Add an opportunistic manager, an American dream, and a whiff of extra-marital romance at work and the scene is set for a bumpy ride.
After the storm erupts with the help of Daniel Priest, self-styled doyen of social media, accusations fly and a desperate struggle to redeem the situation begins. Bex and the manager, Rupert, arrange an interview with Priest to enable Guy to apologise. Streamed live, the interview, predictably, goes horribly wrong when Guy delivers an impassioned rant about freedom of speech, privacy, and rampant political correctness – rather than the required, deserved, and necessary apology. The circus continues to roll and the ending of the play more resembles a cartoon than a sitcom. And not a funny or subtle cartoon.
Twitstorm has the sense of farce, without the laughs. One of the tried and true elements of farce works interestingly here: the repetition of the opening scene towards the end of the play. The dialogue remains mostly the same but the change in who says what adds interest.
The plot is ludicrous and the characters dumb, cardboard and tiring. The topic the play seeks to explore is worthwhile, but the stereotypes, in attitude and character, around which everything revolves, are hopeless – for either comedy or drama.
Jason Merrells plays Guy, the man of the undisciplined mouth. He gives good rant but has little to offer in terms of comedic prowess. Hampered by a curious fat suit appendage, Merrells is charming in a gaudy way and tries too hard to engage the sympathy of the audience. He and Claire Goose have developed a believable on-stage relationship as husband and wife. Goose delivers a strong and believable performance throughout. The surface tranquility of the marriage is as clear as the rancid underside.
Tom Moutchi is Ike, the young man from Africa who is the sand in the oyster that is Guy’s life. Through all the unexpected developments his character faces, Moutchi is charismatic and convincingly naive. He handles the many layers of the character with great skill.
The ever-present best friend, Neil, is played by Justin Edwards. The role itself is not strongly defined, and the result is dull. Edwards gives depth and dimension where he can but there are few opportunities.
In the role of Rupert is Chris England, the writer of the play. England should stick to writing. Or something. Rupert is bombastic and not a little shallow and England’s performance is both shallow and bombastic.
The final member of the cast is Ben Kavanagh who has two roles. The first is Steve, a nerd from the television production team that supports Guy’s programme, but more significantly he appears as Daniel Priest, the social media journalist guru. As Priest, Kavanagh is exquisite – both in his styling, care of assistant costume designer Sarah June Mills, and his acting. With the curl of a lip and the slight lift of a brow, Kavanagh drips with disdain.
The design elements of set and lighting support the narrative and the clever inclusion of the ‘outdoor’ terrace at the edge of the performance space provides the necessary barbecue set whilst maintaining the one-set form. Designer Anthony Lamble dresses his set with fine colour co-ordinated cushions and kitchenware. Tim Mitchell’s lighting design is a highlight especially in the final scene when mayhem reigns and the stage explodes with light.
The production is directed by Jonathon Lewis, his second collaboration with writer England. He successfully maintains a flow of energy in what is a complex, but banal, script. But nothing he does can raise the proceedings very high. The fatal lack of insight and subtlety in the writing proves insuperable.
Twitstorm seeks to be a serious commentary on the far-reaching effects of social media. It is certainly timely, considering the plethora of current examples of public figures giving vent by Tweet. Alas, Twitstorm might be relevant, but it lags behind on the entertaining front.
If it was as entertaining as it is try-hard, that would be a bonus.