Red Light Winter, Turbine Theatre ★★

If I haven’t heard of a play, or its author, I will always give them the chance to impress, or the benefit of my dramatic doubt. Off I went to the Turbine Theatre, hidden in the arches, nearby Battersea Power Station, to experience not only the work of a ‘finalist for the Pulitzer Prize for Drama’ but also the newly opened tube station, on the Northern Line.

The first disappointment was the discovery that the new tube station was not connected to the main Battersea Power Station social-hub of homes and restaurants. That meant an extra fifteen minutes rushed walk (with no signage) to try and find the theatre. Luckily, I had previously visited this colourful hidden gem, so knew where it was, which helped, but the major disappointment was the unexpected and unplanned distance from the station, which resulted in a rushed dash, and a just-in-time arrival. 

The second disappointment was the play, Red Light Winter by American playwright Adam Rapp. The play started in a hotel room in Amsterdam, shared by friends, writer Matt (James Burman) and party animal Davis (Freddy Sawyer). The play opened with a verbal vocabulary-fuelled vomit of ranting and American theorising which felt like an inexperienced author trying to impress. It was as unfortunate as the opening suicidal attempt by depressed writer Matt, clearly included to shock, without giving us time to understand why. 

The next unexpected and completely unnecessary action was the return of Davis, who immediately stripped naked, just to change his boxers, before getting dressed again. This clearly was also meant to shock, tantalise or even just to lure an audience, and to justify the warning in the hype of the play of the ‘scenes of an adult nature, strong language and nudity’ which always sells (especially male nudity, which seems an important selling point of all the productions I’ve seen at this theatre!) 

The tirade of tiresome American ranting about everything and nothing, was a complete turnoff, which explained the need for the unneeded nudity. The major fault of such an opening was to create two characters which I didn’t give-a-damn about. Eventually, we were introduced to the third character Christina (Tian Chaudhry) one of the ‘window women’ of Amsterdam, who had been paid by Davis to cheer up depressed Matt, with her sexual seduction. Again, unfortunately, the amount of cannabis and cocaine consumed by Davis and Christina made the whole scenario unconvincing, and would have resulted in both of them just crashing and burning, as this play should have done, before being published.

When we finally got to the story, after the author had clearly run out of things to rant about, we then entered phase two which included a completely random unrequited love-song sung by Christina, which may have been included to show-off the playwright's lyrical ability! The detailed critical song analysis that followed, by an apparently suicidal depressive, was again unneeded and just unacceptable, as was the whole plot of this bad-choice play to be produced.

Things slightly improved in the second act, but not enough to save this production from being critically slaughtered by my colleague and myself. It then turned into a play-within-a-play, with major plot holes involving timing, more out-of-the-blue cathartic preaching analysis, and a very uncomfortable misogynistic mess.

Victor Lirio's production was flawed with faults, as was Carly Brownbridge and Joel Williams' set and lighting designs, with many questionable choices about layout, period and atmosphere. Artistic Director Paul Taylor Mills must also take some of the blame for the unfortunate choice of play, and nudity policy.

At the end of September 2021, I'd much rather have a blue Indian summer than this Red Light Winter, any day.

Red Light Winter, Turbine Theatre ★★ 

(second ★ for the sincerity of the acting alone)