Tag: Hannah Sinclair Robinson

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Whose account of a relationship can you trust in Frantic Assembly’s Lost Atoms?

Joe Layton’s Robbie and Hannah Sinclair Robinson’s Jess opening up the cabinet of memories in Frantic Assembly’s Lost Atoms, on tour at York Theatre Royal. Picture: Tristram Kenton

IT starts with a chance meeting, sharing a mobile hotspot, followed by some disastrous dates, but then an extraordinary transformative love ensues.  This is the stuff of fairy tales, surely? Or is it?

Welcome to Lost Atoms, Frantic Assembly’s 30th anniversary production, on tour at York Theatre Royal from October 7 to 11, under the direction of physical theatre specialist Scott Graham, who was at the helm of the London company’s earlier York visits with Othello and Metamorphosis.

Written by Anna Jordan, who has credits for Succession and Killing Eve episodes as well as Frantic Assembly’s Unreturning, Lost Atoms takes Jess (Hannah Sinclair Robinson) and Robbie (Joe Layton) on a wild ride through a life-changing relationship.

Frantic Assembly director Scott Graham in the rehearsal room for Lost Atoms. Picture: Ben Hewis

Or, or more pointedly, through Jess and Robbie’s recollection of how they scaled the soaring highs and crushing lows as they relive the beats of connection, the moments of loss – but are their stories the same and can their memories be trusted?

By turns humorous and heartbreaking, Lost Atoms’ timeless story explores how love shapes our lives and how we remember it as two people plunge deep into their shared pasts and propel themselves into multiple futures, risking it all.

Welcome back to York, Hannah, who, like Coronation Street alumnus Joe, appeared in Metamorphosis and Othello, as Grete and Bianca in her case; the Chief Clerk and Iago in his.

“My first experience of Frantic Assembly was when I did a three-year performing arts course at Bath Spa [University], where we researched the company for a devising module,” recalls Hannah.  “My tutor was a big fan, and I first saw a Frantic Assembly in Othello at the Lyric Theatre, Hammersmith, which was an incredible show.

“We’ve had a massive hand in character development and offering a character’s insight on a scene, which was such a privilege,” says Hannah Sinclair Robinson, pictured in rehearsal for Lost Atoms. Picture: Ben Hewis

“I have a dance background and I loved how their work married my two favourite things, acting and dancing, so it really inspired me. Then, when I did the tenth anniversary tour of The Curious Incident Of The Dog In The Night-Time, I hadn’t realised that Frantic Assembly’s Scott Graham had done the movement direction.

“So when I heard that Frantic Assembly would be doing Othello again, I contacted them to say I’d seen it in 2014 and loved it, and ‘please can I have an audition?’! And the rest is history, working with them ever since. It’s been like a dream come true.”

Now comes Lost Atoms, a performance that is all the more physical, the more intense, for being a two-hander. “It’s been very intensive, rehearsing for five weeks with Scott,” says Hannah. “It’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever done because there’s no respite, no breaks, you’re both on there all the time.

“The physical element is one of the biggest things for Frantic Assembly, using movement to express things that are unsaid; things you can’t say but can express with movement.

“Working with Scott in rehearsals, we did a couple of weeks of ‘table work’, going through the script, settling on your character’s intentions, and then we used Frantic Assembly’s building blocks, creating movements based around the theme, putting them together with Joe [Layton] after starting with six small movements.”

“The gift we give is that there is hope,” says Hannah of Lost Atoms’ journey through love’s ups and downs. Picture: Scott Graham

Describing Lost Atoms’ structure, Hannah says: “It’s a play about love and memory, as a couple come together to relive their past history with different motives for meeting up and with their differing perspectives: how we remember things differently – and that depends on how we want to remember things and how we want to be remembered.”

Hannah and Joe have been involved in the gestation of Lost Atoms since taking part in three weeks of research-and-development sessions. “We started maybe late last year, and the first week was with Anna, the writer, as well as Scott,” she says. “We’ve had a massive hand in character development and offering a character’s insight on a scene, which was such a privilege.

“As an actor, you draw on your own experiences, accessing different emotions. For Lost Atoms, we could share experiences of love, both platonic and romantic and familial too. It was a really safe space to do that, so it feels like our fingerprints are all over the show.”

Hannah and Joe performing together previously has been an advantage when working on Lost Atoms. “Because it’s a two-hander and it’s so intense, it’s really important that you have that trust. Joe is a brilliant actor and friend and we trust each other totally,” she says, as the partnership blossoms in performance at Curve, Leicester, where the production opened on September 22.

“Because it’s a two-hander and it’s so intense, it’s really important that you have that trust. Joe is a brilliant actor and friend and we trust each other totally,” says Hannah. Picture: Scott Graham

“After five weeks in the rehearsal room, it comes to the point where you need to put it in front of an audience, because there’s both humour and heartbreak and you’ve got to find the points where the humour lands.

“Also, because it’s so physical and intense, you need to learn how to open it up to share with people, and you have to learn the rhythm of the performance too.”

Ultimately, for all its candour about love being strange, Lost Atoms has a hopeful tone. “It doesn’t necessarily come in the package you might expect, but we hope to leave people with that feeling of hope, even within the heartbreak of the relationship,” says Hannah. “The gift we give is that there is hope.”

Frantic Assembly in Lost Atoms, York Theatre Royal, October 7 to 11, 7.30pm plus 2pm Thursday and 2.30pm Saturday matinees. Box office: 01904 623568 or yorktheatreroyal.co.uk.

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REVIEW: Frantic Assembly in Kafka’s Metamorphosis, York Theatre Royal ***

Suffering under a surfeit of chairs: Felipe Pacheco’s Gregor Samsa in Frantic Assembly’s Metamorphosis. Picture: Tristram Kenton

SHOULD Frantic Assembly transfer Franz Kafka’s absurdist novella Metamorphosis from page to stage?

Artistic director Scott Graham’s initial reaction was No, but its themes of the crushing burden of debt, subsequent dysfunctional family relations, monotonous work for low pay, fear of isolation and an unhealthy obsession with identity made it as much a story for our time as of 1912.

That surely made it ripe for a company noted for the heft of its emotional truths? Then add wave upon wave of Kakfa surrealism to bring out Frantic Assembly’s other trademark: movement. The physicality to complement all that mental turbulence.

Now Graham needed a writer, one to work in tandem with him in creating a 21st century reinvention of Metamorphosis, its world of social immobility, dashed expectations, repetitive restraints, impoverishment and exploitation, but still with the look of the early 20th century (courtesy of Jon Bauser’s design and Becky Gunstone’s period costumes).

Lemn Sissay OBE, esteemed poet, broadcaster and speaker, was his pick but again the first inclination was No. However, he too felt the tug of Kafka’s torrid tale, seeing within its desperation, a chance to depict Gregor’s transformation as the embodiment of the woes of modern capitalism.

Two forces are at play in Graham’s production, movement and language, not always in union, however.

Ruling the roost: Joe Layton’s Chief Clerk piling on the financial pressure in Frantic Assembly’s Metamorphosis as Hannah Sinclair Robinson’s Grete, left, Louise May Newberry’s Mrs Samsa and Troy Glasgow’s Mr Samsa look aghast. Far left, Felipe Pacheco’s Gregor’s day is going from bad to worse. Picture: Tristram Kenton

Movement first, the more satisfying, more successful component. Bauser’s set, with its sloping ceiling, cut-off-at-the-knees floor, silken walls and sparse furnishings, conspires with Ian William Galloway’s video designs, Helen Skiera’s soundscapes, Stefan Janik’s unnerving compositions and Simisola Majekodunmi’s all-important lighting to be disorientating for audience and Brazilian-English actor and movement practitioner Felipe Pacheco’s Gregor Samsa alike.

The Samsa house, or more precisely, Gregor’s room within it, is constantly, subtly, deceptively, on the move, as if a magician with dexterous sleight of hand is at work. The physicality of the stage in motion is as imvital here as human movement. Or insect movement, in the case of poor Gregor.

As a sidenote, the sense of a house on the move, of tectonic shifts, is more effectively portrayed than in Les Enfants Terribles’ Theatre Royal visit last month with The House With Chicken Legs.

Your reviewer recalls lighting last being used so strikingly, as a character in itself, in the Lyric Hammersmith’s Ghost Stories at the Grand Opera House in pre-Covid March 2020.

Here, in one extraordinary scene, as Pacheco’s Gregor swings on the wiring from the detached ceiling light, the light in his hand keeps switching on and off. Off, back on, and he has moved again. Again and again.

This is movement and meaning in perfect symmetry, with Pacheco as spry as a Buster Keaton or Harold Lloyd, but not comical, more  like Jeff Goldblum in The Fly.

What lies on the other side of the door? Hannah Sinclair Robinson’s Grete, left, Troy Glasgow’s Mr Samsa, Louise May Newberry’s Mrs Samsa and Joe Layton’s Chief Clerk fear the worst for the insect inside in Frantic Assembly’s Metamorphosis. Picture: Tristram Kenton

By comparison with the visual, the verbal is uneven, sometimes playful, other times earnest or abstract; sometimes snappy, other times, weighty and wordy in monologues for Troy Glasgow’s wastrel, hypocritical, hyper-critical Mr Samsa and his compliant wife (Louise Mai Newberry).

Shards of humour pierce the surrealist surface, but the overall tone is disquieting, discomfiting. For all the poetic verve and political vigour, momentum is lost, rather than gained, post-interval, when more interaction would have been beneficial (like in the scenes with Joe Layton’s Chief Clerk), rather than the fragmented, episodic structure of lone voices.

In the best decision, Gregor’s transformation to an insect is depicted  not as an overnight sensation, but as a gradual consequence of his debilitating, repetitive daily routine as a clothing salesman, with all the pressures of being the sole breadwinner, That works wonderfully well across the first half, captured in Pacheco’s Groundhog Day grind, climaxing with Gregor encased in four chairs, looking not unlike a beetle for the only time.

Likewise, the metamorphosis of Gregor’s young sister, Hannah Sinclair Robinson’s Grete, takes on more prominence in Sissay’s account, wherein she hates the discipline of having to play the violin yet craves the spotlight. How very 21st century! Her face-pulling solo scene by the mirror is a stand-out, one that finds Sissay, Graham and Sinclair Robinson conveying character as one.

That scene is typical of a production with moments and ideas of theatrical brilliance rather than creative cohesion. Last autumn’s bar-room Othello was superior, but Frantic Assembly are always worth seeing, for those exciting highs, the visual fire storms, the brutal, yet beautiful physicality. 

Performances: 7.30pm tonight and tomorrow; 2.30pm and 7.30pm, Saturday. Box office: 01904 623568 or yorktheatreroyal.co.uk.