BLUETS - THEATRE REVIEW

Royal Court Theatre, London

To use the word ‘experimental’ to describe Bluets would be an understatement. And it makes perfect sense, considering that the production is directed by the innovative Katie Mitchell and based on a book written by Maggie Nelson. If you’re familiar with Nelson’s work, which consists of a merge of prose and poetry that creates an unclassified 'mosaic', you already know that this is not going to be a ordinary theatre performance.

It’s crystal clear from the moment you step into the auditorium, when you first notice a big screen hovering over the stage, three smaller screens below it, cameras, three mics and three stands with various objects/props on them. It’s shocking; it feels almost inappropriate to have that much equipment on a stage, where everything is supposed to be ‘live’ and ‘in the moment’. Lights go down. The three actors enter the space getting ready in their respective rectangular area, like a voice artist entering a booth, and for the next 80 minutes, these ‘booths’ become their kingdom.

With the screens’ assistance, which serve as a backdrop, the actors get transported to different places without the need of an actual set or the need to move more than a couple of steps forward and backwards.

Soon we realise that all three actors, Ben Whishaw, Kayla Meikle and Emma D’Arcy, are the same character, a person who (probably) has depression and who’s deeply in love with two things: a ‘bad man’ and the colour blue. Both are incapable of giving them what they truly want and we accompany them to the tube, the park, their house, the museum and all sort of places as they navigate their everyday life.

Impressively well-rehearsed synchronisation makes the whole performance mesmerising. Not only do the actors finish each other’s sentences, but each other’s movements too. As Meikle pours a glass of Maker’s Mark, D’Arcy picks up the glass and Whishaw drinks it; as D’Arcy gets in the car and starts driving, Whishaw takes out a cigarette from a pack lying on the passenger’s seat and Meikle smokes it. It’s a complicated choreography that breaks down the narration into pieces of a puzzle that brings the audience closer to understanding what’s happening in the character’s head and how they’re dealing with what life throws at them. Essentially, a beautiful dive into the corners of a blue mind.

It’s an intriguing concept that pays off for the first half of the performance. However, the longer this choreography keeps going, the more the audience shifts in their chairs and seems somewhat distracted. The pace, set-up, pastel lighting palette, even the pitch of the actors’ voices, they all stay pretty much the same for the entirety of the show. Although breaking and reinventing conventions in such an interesting way can push the art of theatre forward, we still need some of its original core and principle. There is no switch that can help the audience identify a resolution or climax, something to shake us up from the dreamy haze we’ve been invited in.