Anna Burnside reviews 'a clever piece of theatre, consistently comical, never preachy or judgemental.'
Jill and Ollie are a lovely young couple in an all-too familiar situation. Expecting their first baby, the only place they can afford to live is a scheme so grim that it’s been on the telly.
When an enigmatic lady from the government offers them a large rundown house—for free—they are drawn into a Faustian pact. By doing up this dump they will create a donut effect, encourage other families to move to the area and create a property hotspot.
At first poor Ollie is rewiring and painting round the clock. But when he accidentally kills an intruder and wakes up with a cream and peach kitchen from Selfridges, the couple discover a hidden clause in their contract.
Soon the couple are calling disposable vagrants “renovators” and working out how to batch dispatch them.
Philip Ridley’s black comedy, first produced in 2015, skewers many unpleasant features of early 21st century capitalism. The writing, already sharp and peppy, sparkles under Johnny McKnight’s direction.
Dani Heron and Martin Quinn are well cast as the sweet couple whose moral compass collapses in the face of a free basement makeover. The pacing and pitch are well judged. When everything escalates at a garden party where Ollie is losing it, they can set off the fireworks.
Heron’s panto-honed screams are well deployed, and the pair play all the guests at the barbecue, plus their own characters, in a tornado of disintegration.
Julie Watson Nimmo is the enigmatic government envoy Miss Dee and then reappears as a renovator in one of the show’s several ethically wobbly moments.
To counteract all the crazy, Kenny Miller’s set is crisp and minimal. A house within a house is outlined in neon tubing. This changes colour and flashes as different horrors unravel within. Emma Jones’s lighting adds atmosphere and Patricia Panther contributes a buzzing, discordant soundscape to make the audience even less comfortable.
This is such a clever piece of theatre, consistently comical, never preachy or judgemental. It’s funny because it could all too easily be true.
Radiant Vermin performs at the Tron Theatre until July 13, 2024.
Photo by Mihaela Bodlovic.
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