Photographer: Phil Erbacher.
4 MINUTES 12 SECONDS is the title not the running time of this one hour and twenty minutes of coruscating contemporary theatre.
Frightening and frequently funny, James Fritz’s forensically layered play peels away at the pernicious phenomenon of phone photo sex and the indiscriminate dissemination of private acts on the most public of forums, the internet.
The play begins with David caught by his wife, Di, with a bit of dirty laundry, a bloodstained shirt belonging to their son, Jack. She wants to know the story of the soiled garment, he is reticent. She is tenacious and slowly the story unfolds. There’s a lot of dirty laundry to air.
Apparently, Jack’s nose has been spifflicated by the brother of Cara, the girl he has recently split from, and whose in flagrante video images with Jack have been uploaded on the net.
Ramifications of revenge porn, the very real possibility of rape, and the question of role model/ parental responsibility is the carapace of this examination of consent and the anti social side of social media.
Emma Dalton is steadfastly commanding as Di, projecting a fiercely protective spouse and mother, marshalling her strategy like a five star general to ensure Fortress Family remains impregnable while securing victory for her son’s future. Her command under siege from outside forces, her resilience must endure being emotionally undermined and morally eroded from within, defending the indefensible as an artillery of accusation and a volley of revelation lay waste to certainty and hopes.
James Smithers is similarly splendid as the dad culpable of inculcating the culture of “boys will be boys, get your leg over, lad, legacy”, where consent is not the concern, rather the beastly, boastful conquest.
Excelling in their supportive roles are Kira McLennan and Nicholas McGrory as Cara, Jacks’ “victim”, and Nick, Jack’s “mate”.
James Smithers’ set design of white screen walls and platform screen floor suggests and reflects the voyeuristic thematics of the play, the idea that we are “of” and “in” the all pervading screen, the virtual on concussive collision with IRL.
Directed with crisp intelligence and an assured economy of stagecraft by Jane Angharad, this production of 4 MINUTES 12 SECONDS is a disturbing, tragically true tale of our times, teeming with toxic misogyny and class consciousness.
# Must See.
A Crying Chair Theatre and Secret House co-production, 4 MINUTES 12 SECONDS plays Flightpath Theatre till Saturday November 1
