Why Laughing Boy - and his doggedly determined mother - will move you to tears, ... trends now
Laughing Boy (Jermyn Street, London, then Bath)
Verdict: The power of love
Connor's mum, Sara, calls her son LB, short for Laughing Boy. Also London Buses, which her fun, funny child cuddled as others kids cuddle teddies. He hated shops, loud noise and darkness. He was 'quirky', says Sara, an Oxford academic, smiling through tears. Autistic, epileptic, Connor saw things in his own way. He could be a 'handful', but he was easy to love.
Notice the past tense. Aged 18, Connor left his special school, where he was safe and happy, and moved into the next phase of 'care': an Assessment and Treatment Unit run by Southern Health. He was never assessed. He was 'treated' with sedatives. Reports of his seizures were ignored. Locked in a bathroom, while his supervisor ordered groceries on-line, he drowned.
Stephen Unwin's devastating dramatisation of his mother's published memoir begins on that unforgettable scorching day in 2013.
So starts Sara's tireless, fearless mission to expose the scandal of neglect and indifference which lead to Connor's entirely preventable death while under NHS 'care'. It culminates — and the irony is savage — with a tense, sickening scene in which Sara herself is put on trial, accused of going to work, instead of staying at home with her son, judged 'monstrous' by his case-worker.
Connor's mum, Sara, calls her son LB, short for Laughing Boy. Also London Buses, which her fun, funny child cuddled as others kids cuddle teddies. He hated shops, loud noise and darkness
He was 'quirky', says Sara (pictured, Janie Dee), an Oxford academic, smiling through tears. Autistic, epileptic, Connor saw things in his own way. He could be a 'handful', but he was easy to love
Blurry images of children singing, of a smiling little Connor are projected on a curved white wall — like the end of a bath. Treasured videos. But Connor himself is ever-present, played by Alfie Friedman, intensely alive, asking questions, making statements, always ending in the word 'Mum'. The connection between them is extraordinary, as is Janie Dee's performance as his doggedly determined mother, her searing grief contained, her fury and frustration spilling over.
Almost unbearable, but essential campaigning theatre.
Jermyn Street Theatre to May 31; Theatre Royal, Bath, June 4-8.
ON TOUR…
BY VERONICA LEE
Moby Dick
Verdict: A whale of a tale
Retelling Herman Melville's 19th-century novel about one man's obsession with the eponymous whale is no mean feat, and Sebastian Armesto's adaptation certainly has a good try. On Kate Bunce's set of wooden planks, scaffolding and a sailcloth, he and director Jesse Jones spin the yarn — with its famous opening line 'Call me Ishmael' — using words, movement and music (mostly sea-shanties) with a nine-strong cast of actor-musicians.
Despite being a bracing story set mostly on the high seas, the first act moves slowly as Ishmael (Mark Arends) tell us why he's about to board a whaling ship, and how his friendship with harpooner Queequeg (Tom Swale) began.
