★★★
The idea behind Lynn Faces is an interesting one: a play following the debut concert of punk band Lynn Faces rapidly unravels as lead singer and founding member of the band Leah struggles to come to terms with the recent ending of her toxic relationship. The band have only just met up and are seriously under-rehearsed so the whole show is chaotic and struggles to find its footing, much like Leah herself is in the aftermath of her relationship ending.
The whole show does hinge somewhat on your understanding of Alan Partridge and his secretary Lynn Benfield, the band’s namesake. If you only have a passing familiarity with the characters, as I do, then many of the jokes will go right over your head. That is not to say that there is no humour to be found elsewhere in the show but your mileage with the jokes will probably be better if you have more familiarity with Partridge lore. The choice of opening in masks of Lynn and performing this way for the first fifteen minutes or so was baffling initially but did come to make more sense as the storyline unravelled.
The show is by design, messy, imprecise and awkward and feels almost stilted for much of the first 20 minutes or so. The pacing throughout is off: it is 70 minutes straight through with no interval but feels longer and struggles to find its natural end point. There is a certain charm in composer Anna Wheatley’s songs which range from quirky to downright bizarre but few are particularly memorable and the “bad playing” schtick grows somewhat wearing over time. The interludes between the songs are much stronger and the play could probably do with fewer punk parody numbers and more dialogue between the characters as the dynamic between the three leads is where the show really shines.
The performances are excellent. The relationships between the three women feel very real, and the dynamics are well drawn particularly between Leah (Madeleine McMahon) and Ali (Peyvand Sadeghian), the old friends of the trio. The tension between the pair is palpable as Ali’s frustration over Leah’s obsession with her ex grows and the moment when everything boils over is really satisfying. The standout however is Millie Faraway’s Shonagh, who acts as a conduit for the audience as the newer member of the trio. Faraway has such natural comic timing and brings such an excellent warmth and exuberance to her role. She works the audience so naturally that it’s hard to believe this marks her professional stage debut. McMahon does a wonderful job of portraying Leah in a very nuanced way and her slow unravelling throughout is heart-breaking to watch. Sadeghian’s no-nonsense Ali is a wonderful balancing act between exuberant Shonagh and shy Leah. She’s a character that could so easily come across as harsh but Sadeghian underlies her frustration at Leah’s obsession with her ex with such genuine empathy and care that she never does. The history between the two women is clear even if we only get a few small glimpses through the dialogue.
The show does suffer a little from tonal whiplash. It is clear what writer Laura Horton was going for by combining the absurd comedy with Leah’s slow realisation of the emotional abuse she suffered at the hands of her ex but the balance just isn’t quite right. It’s too top heavy with the comedy that by the time the eventual revelations of just what Leah has been through come in, it feels like it should be part of a different show. That isn’t to say that comedy can’t work with the topic of domestic abuse but Lynn Faces hasn’t quite found the right balance. There are moments of brilliance that work really well, like the Pete or Partridge game where the audience have to guess whether a line was said by Leah’s ex or Alan Partridge. That works really well, combining humour with the crushing realisation of the full extent of the abuse Leah suffered. But there are also moments that feel almost too bizarre, like the full size crochet cow falling from the ceiling. The set up takes a tad too long for such a short show, and if we got into the action faster and the more serious topics were interwoven with the comedy from earlier in the play, it would feel more balanced that it does in its current iteration.
Creatively, the costume design by Tabitha Stock is probably the strongest element. The choice of outfit for each character really reflects their personality whilst keeping the punk aesthetic. The set is fairly minimal, but Megan Lucas’ video design is used to decent comic effect.
Lynn Faces is a puzzling one, as it is a play that has clear potential but hasn’t quite landed on the right version yet. The balance between the comedic and the emotional pathos of the domestic abuse storyline isn’t there and so it feels too comedic and bizarre to be tackling something so serious and at the same time, too serious to be so bizarre. Its contradictions need to be balanced in order for it to develop as a piece. A better balance between the songs and the dialogue would also be helpful. However there are seeds of an interesting idea here, and the performances are so strong that with more development, it could be a really great show. It’s certainly a very unique one.
Lynn Faces is on at The New Diorama Theatre until 1 March.
Words By Jo Elliott
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