ECHO (Every Cold-Hearted Oxygen) – review

In the spirit of not burying the lead, I found this piece to be intriguing, stimulating, humorous, frustrating, tedious, evocative, mind-altering, invigorating and inspiring in equal measure; in short, almost everything that high-quality, progressive theatre should be.

Having said that…

I guessed that reviewing this piece might provide a huge challenge once I realised – upon talking to a fellow patron prior to the show – that the production was semi-improvised, and that its (one-person) cast-list changed each night.

Of course, this information – delivered mere minutes before ‘curtain up’ – brought up similar questions to those engendered by the reader of this review.

Most theatre-goers – even those not tasked with actually writing show reviews – are usually asked one of the following questions:

1. Who’s in it?
2. What’s it about?
3. How did you feel about it?

I shall answer question number ‘1’ in two parts.

Technically, only ‘The Actor’ is on stage and for this performance, it was Adrian Lester.

However, even this needs clarifying.

As the part of ‘The Actor’ is re-cast each night, it’s safe to say that the whole experience can vary wildly, depending on the actor’s emotional reactions, immersive capabilities, and stage charisma.

Questions ‘2’ and ‘3’ are generally based on reacting to a standard theatrical experience; one chock-full of the pre-scripted, scrupulously constructed and rigorously rehearsed dramatic, intellectual and/ or emotional stimuli offered to them by the writer(s), actor(s) and creative team.

In this way, it is generally only by – or near – the show’s end that the audience has been given sufficient information to ‘catch up’ with those onstage enough to answer all three queries.

This production ingeniously sets the conditions whereby the writer, actor and audience are – at least initially – in a similar space of ‘I don’t know’; making this experience probably as close to a level playing field as you can get.

Onstage is a desk and a computer. Above the desk is a large video screen; above that is a smaller video screen. On one side of the stage is a see-through screen; behind which the actor can still be viewed, and onto which various images are projected. In front of this is a rug. Once The Actor appears, they are requested to remove their shoes and socks; replacing them with a pair of white socks and sandals.

At this point, Iranian writer Nassim Soleimanpour appears onscreen – from Berlin, apparently – to guide us through a light-hearted, seemingly-improvised conversation; one that we – the audience – are not only privy to but complicit in.

It would be unfair for me to disclose more; other than to say that perceptions of time, space, memory and reality are manipulated cleverly through some wonderfully innovative story-telling, technology and stage-management.

Similarly – and more importantly – there are many specific (and poetic) allusions given to (among other things) the concepts of stories, memory, reality, perception, borders and the ‘bridges’ that connect us; both to each other, and to our former and future selves.

Director Omar Elerian deserves much kudos for steering a ship that seems to require constant navigation through unchartered waters.

Similarly, production designer Derek Richards, Composer/ Sound Designer Anna Clock and lighting designer Jackie Shemesh deserve equal plaudits for ‘bridging the divides’; bringing to life such imaginative concepts and words.

As mentioned, the experience is likely to be different each night, as The Actor/ surrogate changes.

Therefore – without being overly critical, I’d venture to say that this reviewer’s experience might have been more ‘enjoyable’ with another actor; one more willing (or able) ’to play in the sand’.

That being said, Writer Soleimanpour’s words,  – and his over-arching presence – were more than sufficient to make me believe in a world that he and his fellow creatives had rendered.

While watching the production – even while exiting the theatre – I had concerns that describing the show’s premise might be even more challenging than the critique itself.

It is only now, upon having to commit part of myself to posterity, that  I realise the very act of recalling this play – re-engaging with the memories and energies birthed when first experiencing such a unique theatre experience – is, in itself, part of the show.

In that regard, the play has become a part of me – and I, am a part of it. An amazing achievement.

NEED TO KNOW: ECHO plays at the Royal Court Theatre until 27 July 2024