Bang Bang Bang by Out Of Joint, or, When Theatre Isn’t The Way To Do It
I’m not usually one for theatre about real ISSUES. I like a bit of depth and stuff to think about, but tend to prefer shows involving a glitter cannon to anything too morbid. You really have to wonder why I decided to book tickets for a play about humanitarian workers in the Democratic Republic of Congo but, when I think about it, the last thing I saw by Out Of Joint DEFINITELY involved a guy in a sparkly jacket and a dance routine.
Tuesday night is also Zumba night. So, rather than bail on my friend Kate, I invited her along for the feelgood comedy of the millenium! Kate had a baby a year ago and told me recently that since getting pregnant she’s had a real problem stomaching violence on the TV. I thought back to that episode of ER where Dr Carter went to the DRC and remembered lots of shouting and a very unhygenic tourniquet. Kate remembered a scene where Dr Carter and Thandie Newton got smacked in the face by rebel rifles. We both remembered AIDS. Lots of AIDS. Poor Kate, I thought.
The first thing that happened was a French girl totally lost her shit because gangs of men were about to burst in and rape her. About 15 minutes later THERE WAS A DEAD BABY. By the interval I was spluttering apologies as we ran towards our drinks.
After that though, it was all amazing. SUCH a relief. A bald guy turned up with Jagermeister and they all got pissed. The rubbish boyfriend fucked off to China. A guy from Tring was sick behind the sofa and a warlord gave them a cow. There was a bit more violence and some minor miscarriage, but these things will happen. Hooray for the Democratic Republic of Congo!
In all seriousness, sometimes it’s important to not be entertained. Some things are too sickening to laugh about. Bang Bang Bang did that thing that artists are so good at, where they bung a human face on vast and systemic violence and corruption. It is much easier for us to face harsh realities and open our eyes to horror when artists put it in front of us with some character development and a party scene. It’s important that they keep doing that, but it strikes me that the situation in Congo is simply too horrible for a studio theatre in the East Midlands. Sometimes we need to face up to real documentary images and hear reports of brutality first-hand, because that reminds us that the world isn’t just some big art project and we shouldn’t be flippant about dead babies on our trivial little theatre blogs.
