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.

Frantic Assembly catch Metamorphosis bug to deliver Franz Kafka’s horror story of family cracking under mental stress

Frantic Assembly in Metamorphosis: “A story about a family with a big secret locked in one of its rooms”. Picture: Tristram Kenton

WHEN actor, writer and director Fraser Ayres advised Frantic Assembly artistic director Scott Graham to consider staging a version of Franz Kafka’s novella Metamorphosis, his initial response was No.

“Why would I want to go anywhere near it? It comes with so much baggage and so much expectation,” he said. “Most people only know the opening to the story when you mention the title.”

That was in 2019, but roll on to 2023 to find Frantic Assembly touring London Olympic Games poet Lemn Sissay’s adaptation from September 11 to March 2 2024. Next stop York Theatre Royal, from October 10 to 14, following up on last October’s visit with an electrifying take on Shakespeare’s Othello.

Kafka’s 1915 novella tells the horror story of Gregor Samsa, a weary travelling salesman and sole breadwinner in his debt-ridden family, who wakes up one morning to find he has been turned into a giant beetle. Confined to his room, Gregor becomes reliant on the family that once relied on him.

 Its influence has spread through popular culture from video games to the Rolling Stones’ cover for their 1975, Metamorphosis, where the band members’ facial features were replaced by bug heads.

The existential, absurdist story has inspired films, operas and theatre productions too, not least Steven Berkoff’s famed 1969 physical theatre show. “If you make theatre and attempt this story, there is a worry that you are always going to be in the shadow of Berkoff,” says Graham.

Frantic Assembly artistic director Scott Graham, left, and Metamorphosis script writer Lemn Sissay. Picture: Adi Detemo

Nevertheless, the possibility of Frantic Assembly staging Metamorphosis became an itch for Graham that had to be scratched, mulling over Ayres’s reading of Kafka’s tale as a powerful story not so much about transformation as the power of perception.

Cue his change of mind. “It’s a story written with such restraint, and it contains so much fear and cruelty. I couldn’t get it out of my head. It was written over 100 years ago, but it feels so timely. So now,” says Graham.

“Rather than an absurd event where someone turns into a giant beetle, we look at it as a story of gradual change, to becoming less human, and that brings it up to date as a critique of the burden of debt and how everything is designed to never be able to get out of it,” he says.

Graham had found the key that would allow him to unlock the story and open it up to exposure afresh, duly teaming up with BAFTA-nominated poet, broadcaster and speaker Lemn Sissay for the first time.

“Initially I was looking for a playwright to adapt the novella, but then I had a moment of inspiration, suggesting Lemn should do it. He’s a renowned poet, not known for adaptations, though he did adapt Benjamin Zephaniah’s teenage novel Refugee Boy [in 2013],” he says.

“I thought we could do something more than a flat theatre interpretation that could really reinvent it, and Lemn’s very personal response to the novella, and its story of a family in debt, does that.”

Graham continues: “I don’t think of it necessarily as a blooming of Lemn as a playwright because we never talked about it as a play. The freedom was there to bring ideas to each other and then create this work for the stage. That means he was not encumbered by expectations of being a playwright.

“It’s poetic – he’s brought that out – and what’s brilliant about this production is that it is a play but it’s something more immediate than that. There was always a risk if I said, ‘can you adapt if for the stage?’, it would mean he would just go off and write a play.

“Lemn’s immediate reaction was ‘No’, but it was about creating the right environment for him, so it was never just about a writer writing a play, but what could I bring to it too with movement. It was never just about the writing, so Lemn could feel like he was held in a safe place where he could explore being a playwright without being crushed by expectation.”

Lemn’s script reimagines Kafka’s story as a psychological tale of a family under pressure, crushed by external economic forces to the point of crushing each other.

“Gregor is the breadwinner and the family are like parasites upon him,” says Graham. “But when he transforms, he is less valuable to them and becomes a burden and we see what happens.”

Sissay describes it as “a story about a family with a big secret locked in one of its rooms”. “The change that happens to Gregor exposes the flaws and fissures and insecurities that already exist in the family,” he says. “There are so many different tensions already in play long before Gregor wakes up as a bug.”

Comparing his Frantic Assembly collaboration to a piece of “intricate origami”, Sissay argues that everything in his script can be found in Kafka’s story. “It’s all there, I haven’t invented. I wouldn’t dream of trying to rewrite such a brilliant text,” he says.

Grete and Gregor in a scene from Frantic Assembly’s Metamorphosis. Picture: Tristram Kenton

Academics have long argued over whether Gregor’s metamorphosis is actual or metaphorical, but Graham suggests it can be both, particularly in the liminal space of the stage where the audience has a different relationship to the material than as a solo reader.  

If you look very closely at the story, the clues are all there, and what happens to Gregor might be seen as a mental health crisis, says Graham. Long before Sissay began writing the script, Frantic Assembly, practitioners of physically dynamic and emotionally truthful shows, were exploring elements of the text already, particularly the fear and sense of the other or monstering that lies within it.

“I don’t think what happens to Gregor is a supernatural event. I think it’s a result of stress. The Samsa family are drowning in debt, a debt that has resulted because of the father’s bankruptcy. Like Gregor, the father has had a moment of transformation when he has gone from breadwinner to burden,” says Graham.  

“Gregor is desperate to get the family out of debt and the confined life they lead. He is aspiring to something else, particularly for his sister Grete, who plays the violin and who he hopes can take it further.

“One of the elements of the story is about aspiration, and what people from different backgrounds can aspire to, and that feels really timely because of the articulation of the idea that people from backgrounds like Grete’s can’t play the violin or shouldn’t aspire to a career in the arts.”

Kafka’s Metamorphosis comes with an unforgettable opening sentence: “As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic insect.”

Tension, ambiguity and confusion: the Samsa family under stress in Frantic Assembly’s Metamorphosis. Picture: Tristram Kenton

“It is complete genius,” says Graham, but he wonders whether it might be a red herring that immediately makes everyone think the novella’s title refers to Gregor alone.

Sissay agrees: “I think the metamorphosis that takes place is as much about Grete as it is about Gregor. She is the person in the story who experiences great change of many different kinds. She is in the process of becoming a woman. It’s all there in the text, and once you see it, you can’t unsee it. It is so clear.”

The pubescent Grete is the family member closest to Gregor, and while her parents recoil when he becomes a bug, she takes on the task of entering his room and bringing him food. “Feeding somebody is an extraordinary act of intimacy,” says Graham, who points to the tensions and ambiguities and confusions already present in Gregor and Grete’s relationship, as indeed there are within the whole family.  

Ultimately those tensions will detonate in unexpected ways and with far-reaching consequences. “This is a story of a family under stress from without and within,” says Graham. “It looks like a normal family and operates like a normal family, but there are hidden weaknesses. When the cracks begin to appear, the structure cannot hold. It’s a tragedy.”    

Frantic Assembly present Metamorphosis at York Theatre Royal, October 10 to 14, 7.30pm plus 2pm Thursday and 2.30pm Saturday matinees. Box office: 01904 623568 or yorktheatreroyal.co.uk.

LEMN Sissay’s new poetry collection, Let The Light Pour In, was published by Canongate on September 21.

REVIEW: Frantic Assembly in Othello, York Theatre Royal, until Saturday ****

Michael Akinsulire’s Othello in a street clash in Frantic Assembly’s 21st century Othello. Picture: Tristram Kenton

HOW reassuring to see packed houses for theatre shows in York this autumn, whether for Agatha Christie’s The Mirror Crack’d at the Theatre Royal or SIX The Musical at the Grand Opera House.

Sitting next to Theatre Royal chief executive Tom Bird on Tuesday night, he revealed that 60 schools – yes, 60 – had booked for Frantic Assembly’s combustible 21st century reimagining of Othello, Shakespeare’s tragedy of paranoia, sex and murder.

“That’s the draw of Frantic Assembly, not Othello,” he said. Maybe, but you don’t have one without the other.

The crackle of excitement in the air, the cheers that greeted the company’s arrival on stage, brought to mind the electric surge triggered by the visits of Emma Rice’s Wise Children company, most recently for Wuthering Heights, that again drew young audiences in abundance.

Drink it all in: Joe Layton’s Iago, left, Tom Gill’s Cassio, Felipe Pacheco’s Roderigo, Oliver Baines’s Montano and Matthew Trevannion’s Brabantio (right) in a scene from Frantic Assembly’s Othello. Picture: Tristram Kenton

You could draw comparisons between the two companies: the importance of choreography; the almost dangerous physicality of the performances; the unexpected moments of humour; the chemistry and one-for-all and all-for-one commitment between actors; the instant bond with the audience; the drive to bring text to thrilling life; the propulsive power of thunderous music.

Yorkshireman Joe Layton, who plays an incorrigible Iago, puts it this way: “The way Frantic work, you are creating a physical sequence, finding a physical connection between characters,” he says. “Then story and characters are layered in on top of that. You throw yourself in and trust the director. You have to give yourself and trust the process,” he says.

From the off, that working practice is borne out in a fast, furious and, yes, frantic Othello, adapted, directed and choreographed by Scott Graham and Steve Hoggett, newly updated for the 2022 tour co-produced with Curve, Leicester.

That opening feels like plugging into the powerlines of The Prodigy’s Firestarter in a wordless, breathless scene-setter that introduces characters (Shakespeare), setting (Laura Hopkins) and soundscape (Hybrid) all at once.

Michael Akinsulire’s Othello listens to Joe Layton’s poison-dripping Iago as Chanel Waddock’s Desdemona looks on. Picture: Tristram Kenton

Think Shameless or This England; a bar with a pool table and a slot machine; bottled beers; everyone off their heads or on a short fuse in high-street zip tops, trainers, hoodies, stretchy sportswear and joggers.

One long Friday night, full of broken glass, jealousy, betrayal, revenge and the darkest intents; a darker brew of John Godber’s Bouncers, where the booze meets the bruise.

Let Frantic Assembly light the fuse, then stand well back, but feel the fierce heat from all that brutal physicality as Layton’s mendacious manipulator Iago winds up Michael Akinsulire’s Othello, the Moor, who is as muscular with Shakespeare’s words as he is physically, his eyes bursting, his mind mangled, his baseball bat never far away.

This is an Othello of myriad street accents, making it universal, from Tom Gill’s Scouse Cassio to Akinsulire’s North London Othello; Chanel Waddock’s Essex Desdemona to Kirsty Stuart’s Scottish Emilia.

Luck’s out: Chantel Waddock’s wronged Desdemona in Othello. Picture: Tristram Kenton

The pace is relentless, the dialogue hot on the tongue, the choreography dazzling, sometimes beautiful and sensuous, as in Akinsulire and Waddock’s pas de deux spread across the pool table, later to be repeated in such contrasting circumstances at the finale.

Frantic’s trademark physicality extends even to Hopkins’ design, suddenly coming to life in wave-like motions, first when a drunken Cassio staggers along the wall, and later when Othello is overcome with shock at what he has done, wishing it might swallow him.

Nothing sums up this Othello better than Iago’s prophetic T-shirt, Just Do It. Let’s hope Frantic Assembly will be back to “just do it” again, whatever the play, because Shakespeare all shook up this way demands a follow-up with more of this full-on brand of theatre.

Frantic Assembly’s Othello, York Theatre Royal, 7.30pm tonight until Saturday; 2pm, Thursday; 7.30pm, Saturday. Box office:  01904 623568 or yorktheatreroyal.co.uk

Yorkshireman Joe Layton heads home as trouble-making Iago in Frantic Assembly’s Othello on tour at York Theatre Royal

What’s he plotting next? Joe Layton’s Iago in Frantic Assembly’s Othello, on tour at York Theatre Royal. Picture: Tristram Kenton

JOE Layton returns to his native Yorkshire from tonight to play Iago in Frantic Assembly’s electrifying reimagining of Shakespeare’s Othello at York Theatre Royal.

Once more he will confirming his English teacher’s hunch at a parents’ evening that Ilkley lad Joe “had some talent for acting”.

“He said, ‘I don’t say this very often, but I would encourage Joe to apply for drama school’,” he recalls.

He duly did so, supported by teacher Tony Johnson, who provided not only encouragement but help in preparing audition speeches. “I owe him a huge amount,” says Joe. “He came to see the last show I did in Leicester and hope he’s in the audience for Othello.”

This is Frantic Assembly’s third staging of their award-winning account of Othello, Shakespeare’s tragedy of paranoia, sex and murder, set in a volatile 21st century wherein Othello’s passionate affair with Desdemona becomes the catalyst for jealousy, betrayal, revenge and the darkest intents.

Shakespeare’s muscular yet beautiful text combines with the touring company’s own bruising physicality in a world of broken glass and broken promises, malicious manipulation and explosive violence, previously staged in 2008 and 2014 and now updated for 2022.

On the wind-up: Joe Layton’s Iago has a word with Michael Akinsulire’s Othello. Picture: Tristram Kenton

Frantic Assembly have had a marked effect on his career and aspirations already, as he was part of their Ignition programme – a free nationwide talent development programme for young people aged 16 to 24 – in 2009 and later appeared in Frantic’s The Unreturning.

“It’s for all genders now but Ignition started out as an all-male programme and was a space where sensitivity and masculinity were explored in a non-toxic way, which I hadn’t experienced before,” says Joe, one of no fewer than five Ignition graduates involved in Othello this season.

He saw Frantic Assembly’s original production in 2008 but it was another of the company’s shows that was particularly influential: Bryony Lavery’s two-hander Stockholm. “I must have been 15 years old,” says Joe. “It was one of those mind-blowing moments that gave you goosebumps. That was the moment I said to myself, ‘I want to work with Frantic one day’.”

His professional debut came two years later in Nikolai Foster’s production of George Orwell’s Animal Farm at West Yorkshire Playhouse. As a 17-year-old schoolboy, he was given special dispensation to leave early several days a week to do the Leeds show.

Looking back at his first encounter with Frantic Assembly’s Othello, Joe recalls how “it really leapt off the page for me and made it accessible, especially for teenagers. It was real, visceral and immediate”.

Honest, Iago? Joe Layton keeps at arm’s length from the truth in Othello. Picture: Tristram Kenton

Now he is playing Iago, the poison-dripping baddie of the piece, or is he possibly misjudged? Psychopath or “a bit of a villain”, Joe must ask himself. “As an actor, you have to get inside them, understand them, what makes them tick, and do the things they do which, in Iago’s case, is hideous, unforgivable things,” he says.

Movement becomes as important as words in Frantic Assembly’s style book. “The way Frantic work, you are creating a physical sequence, finding a physical connection between characters. Then story and characters are layered in on top of that. You throw yourself in and trust the director [Scott Graham]. You have to give yourself and trust the process,” he says.

“We begin rehearsals with a one-hour workout and high intensity training. The rest of the morning is given over to movement sequences. Everything is really highly choreographed. There’s nothing that happens on stage that’s not choreographed.”

Joe grew up in Ilkley, moved to London for drama school, met his wife in New York and now lives in the United States, while working on both sides of the Atlantic.

He headed to America after being scouted by a top actors’ agency. “I don’t regret moving to Los Angeles because it was a really interesting period of my life, although challenging in a lot of ways. I moved away from family and friends and all that sort of stuff.

Turning the tables: Joe Layton’s Iago plays his mind games on Michael Akinsulire’s Othello as Chanel Waddock’s Desdemona looks on. Picture: Tristram Kenton

“I couldn’t work for six months because I was waiting for my work visa to come through. I was a 21-year-old with not much money just sitting around.”

One role to emerge from his USA move was Marvel’s Agents of SHIELD. He was not picked for the role for which he auditioned but was offered a different one. He took part in the series for only a few weeks but found working in the Marvel superhero world to be “a whole different ballgame”.

“I have an agent in the US and the UK,” he says. “One of the things that really changed through the pandemic is that everything, including casting, went online, which means there’s even less need to be in London. It seems the industry is getting less London-centric. You can audition on film anywhere, read a scene and be cast off the tape. That’s been great for me in terms of quality of life and being able to live in America.”

During lockdown, Joe spent an enforced period back in Leeds while visiting family for Christmas celebrations. Unable to go home, he spent six months living in his grandmother’s cottage near Pateley Bridge.

He will return to the USA during a break in the Othello tour. “My wife is at home in America. She’s a writer and working on a new book, so she’s pleased to have me out of the house and have time for herself and her writing.”

Frantic Assembly’s Othello runs at York Theatre Royal from tonight until Saturday, 7.30pm plus 2pm, Thursday; 2.30pm, Saturday. Box office: 01904 623568 or yorktheatreroyal.co.uk.

Did you know?

Joe Layton (Iago), associate director David Gilbert, co-choreographer Perry Johnson, Oliver Baines (Montano) and Felipe Pacheco (Roderigo) have all taken part in Frantic Assembly’s Ignition programme.