I wasn’t quite sure what to expect as we stood self-consciously on gravel in our headsets looking up around us at the purpose-built circular rooftop theatre. But we were hoping that the rain would hold off as umbrellas are not allowed and we were nervous about putting on our disposable macs.
The performance is hard to describe – there’s some skilful dancing and low-key but still daring free running. There’s an eclectic mix of modern alternative music – to accompany slinky dancing and all that running, climbing and jumping.
The main character – bedecked in a red jumpsuit – is joined by a more muscular, speedy and energetic companion while the princess in the glass-fronted radio tower looks on seductively.
I wondered whether I might have accidentally imbibed some hallucinatory substance, as it times it felt like I was in some sort of weird dream where I was alive within a video game. In the 70s.
Amongst the characters I adored the fag smoking, rollers-in-her-hair dancing Disposal lady, the mesmeric Majorettes winding around the chimneys and the pointy headed weird things. And which was more scary – the monsters or your mother? Meanwhile, my colleague was bewitched with the undulating swaying of the Donnie Darkoesque rabbits in their flowery psychedelic shirts.
Luckily, I am familiar with early computer games so I think I got it. The set was brilliant and the essence of those addictive games – winning prizes to exchange for arms, losing lives when you misjudged a jump and returning to the start, successfully progressing to the next level – was cleverly captured. My companion was left a little more bewildered.
Was it an allegory for the dull but dangerous repetition of life? A comment on the futility of competition? An insight into the incomprehensible complexities of romance? I have no idea. But it was compelling viewing and I found myself thinking about it a lot afterwards.
It’s thoroughly original. And I can imagine that if you were looking to take your exhausted post-GCSE teens to see something cool, this would definitely be on the list. Starting at 930pm (so that it is against a night sky and the lighting effects can be fully appreciated) and lasting only an hour means that it would be a bit of an adventure by any standard.
This is the third production conceived, directed and choreographed by co-directors David Rosenberg and Frauke Requardt. Children must be 12+
See more: nationaltheatre.org.uk/shows/the-roof
