The Knee Jerk Of Sloth
A Tragi-comedy written and directed by Pelagie-May Green
"A world of dreams literally hanging by a thread"
- Fringe Review
"A world of dreams literally hanging by a thread"
- Fringe Review
 Eloise Green Photography
HIGHLY RECOMMENDED SHOW
- Fringe review Contains moments of great beauty and great brutality -The Scotsman A brilliant piece of stage craft - Fest Mag "This performance interestingly parallels the voyeuristic gaze of the audience on the actors to the way homeless people are often either stared at or ignored" "There is something magical about this performance" - Plays to see 
 Bryan Green
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Reviews The Scotsman Five homeless people squat in a derelict glue factory. Blake is angry, Pete gets drunk, Queenie doesn’t say much and Shane speaks poetically about his guardian angel. Lilian is quite possibly a ghost. They rub along together in a damaged world which contains moments both of great beauty and of great brutality. Created by students from East 15 Acting School, based on a script by Pelagie May Green with devising by the rest of the company, The Knee Jerk of Sloth oozes atmosphere, from Pete’s ripped tailcoat, to the single cup and saucer they all drink from, and the highly effective use of lightbulbs and lamps to signal the scenes. There are strong, if occasionally overwrought, performances (Scarlet Sherriff deserves particular commendation) and the cast adeptly mixes text-based with physical theatre techniques. But the characters remain at a distance: we are fascinated and repulsed by them, but they’re nothing like us, and the strange, fragmented story being told is occasionally as puzzling as its title. Yet, at the heart of this play about people on the fringes of humanity are some fundamental questions about what it means to be human. ★★★★★ Plays to see An old glue factory is inhabited by four homeless people: Pete the light bulb collector, the silent Queenie who loves sandwiches, the violent Blake who urinates at inappropriate moments, and the dreamer Shane who has an angel. They are haunted by a beautiful woman called Lillian, who merges somewhere between pigeon and guardian angel. Pete tragically pursues her and his hallucination is shared with the audience as Lillian, in a long black dress, appears ethereally on and off stage cooing, humming and playing instruments. The usage of props and space is excellent. Stars cut out of newspaper dangle above a broken duvet which is strewn across a feather-covered floor. Lamps dotted around the stage create the illusion of cosiness which is later broken by the urine bucket which gets thrown across the room. Pete tries to hold a candlelit dinner with Lillian, however instead of a candle there is a light bulb on the table. This performance interestingly parallels the voyeuristic gaze of the audience on the actors to the way homeless people are often either stared at or ignored. There is an uncomfortable and very effective moment when Blake begs the audience to stop staring at him. At night whilst the others sleep, one of the characters might appear ‘on stage’ to perform their dreams, theatrically bowing to the audience that has taken an interest in them: now they have our attention they want to savour it. There is something magical about this performance. Maybe it is the carnivalesque space where the characters can act however they feel – totally unconstrained, drunk, saying whatever comes to mind; all of which is forgotten in the morning. However in the dark factory it is impossible to tell what is day and night; they live an eternal night. Blake and Shane call each other ‘Me’ or ‘I’ in a surreal word-play giving the feeling of a dual consciousness, which serves to highlight their isolation. There’s a wonderfully fast moment where Shane thinks that Blake is starting to become as mad as he is, whilst he drinks out of a teapot despite holding a cup of tea in the other hand. Special mention must go to Queenie whose timing is perfect. This performance is heartfelt and well worth seeing ★★★★★ Fringe Review Birds of Inconvenience are a company of young performers presenting bold new work at Zoo this year and they are worth keeping an eye on. Pelagie-May Green’s absurdist take on homelessness lifts her characters momentarily out of the ordinary and mundane and into the magical and mysterious. What’s clever is that we are constantly aware of these two worlds – the ever-present threats of hunger, thirst and being removed from their make-shift accommodation – in this case an old glue factory – clashing with the search for beauty and love. Each of the characters has a particular focus or obsession. Pete (a warm and engaging performance from James Marks) is fascinated by light bulbs and collects them and their glow is his pleasure. His brother Shane (a delightfully boyish turn from Scarlett Sherriff) is constantly searching for his “angel”, embodied by a cooing pigeon. These are the ones who look to the heavens for some kind of redemption while down on earth, dealing with the daily grind are mute clown Queenie (a coy and impishly funny Louise Skaaning) who scoffs sandwiches from a box, whilst hiding from the world – as Blake (Nathan Parkinson’s well-observed schizophrenic) struggles to inject some reality into the proceedings and keep everyone organised – while pissing into a bucket like some lairy lad on a grotesque night out. The real world begins to invade with Pete’s death from exposure – and some lovely physical comedy sees his body ejected from the factory into the street. Whilst the characters continue their struggle to stay alive, the discovery of the corpse brings the weight of authority to bear, with terrible consequences. Green herself takes a part, her Lillian flitting between scenes like some will-o’-the-wisp, desperate to be loved. The enclosed atmosphere of the Monkey House is made more pronounced by the use of specific light sources and a little well-weighted music with guitar and voice. Director Raine Coles draws the various threads together with precise and taut direction. The overall effect of the piece is transporting and magical, a world of dreams literally hanging by a thread. It’s completely captivating and well worth catching. Our emergence into the Edinburgh sunshine also reminds us that there will be real people in real cardboard boxes on the streets tonight. |
The Knee Jerk of Sloth was part of the Edinburgh Fringe Festival in 2014 and also had a return in Belgium in 2016 with a different cast.
Pelagie Directing
Brakel Belgium
Brakel Belgium
Blake- Played by Bryan Green
Belgium 2016
Belgium 2016
Queenie - Played by Louise Skaaning
Belgium 2016
Belgium 2016
