What Yale doesn’t answer is the imperative question:
why? Why are the homosexual characters
so mistreated? Why are the other
characters so prejudiced, in particular the ‘British’ characters who are
themselves immigrants?
The result is a production that’s all surface and proves to
be too shallow. There is no depth to the
characters, they are simply flat clichés who speak in clunky dialogue –
Danielle Lautier’s police officer Emma Clarke, for example, is too concerned
about paperwork and watching a dog on Britain’s Got Talent to care about the
case at hand, with little reason for her prejudice besides a couple of bruises
from the arrest. This extends to the
direction – one scene sees a man being beaten accompanied by Lady Gaga’s Born This Way that simply comes across
as trite. Moments like this are clearly
meant to be provocative, but are meaningless through the lack of in-depth connection
with the subject.
On a technical level too, the script is essentially two
interrogations in parallel that move along at a sluggish pace. For such an intense and harrowing plot, there
is a lack of urgency and tension, whilst the actors have difficulty embodying
such clichéd characters.
In The Thrice Ninth
Kingdom is undoubtedly a timely production, the programme notes going to
great lengths to contextualise the story with detailed research. Yet laying out the facts in the programme isn’t
enough. By failing to fully engage with and
question the subject matter, Yale fails to present a unique or
thought-provoking viewpoint. Instead he
just aims to shock. It might be based on
nightmarish truth, but this play doesn’t feel believable.