BILL @ Omnibus Theatre - Review
Did someone let a drunk 12 year old do the final edits? ★★★
I recieved a free press ticket for this event. All opinions are my own.
At Omnibus Theatre, Clapham, until 22nd December 2024.
Tickets £18.
Rating: ★★★
The other day I put The Snowman on for a group of children, but it was on YouTube so every 10 minutes or so an insufferable advert for a workplace productivity software or energy provider would loudly interupt a beautiful classic cartoon. BILL was a similar experience. Of the 90 minutes, about 50 are fantastic- well produced, high quality musical comedy biographical theatre, delighfully creative and confidently executed; the other 40 are awful, reminiscent of student improv, with terrible accents, actors breaking, extended bits and lazy jokes. It’s absolutely baffling.
The Bill in question is Bill Cooper, a conspiracy theorist who used mostly the radio as his medium. He was the intellectual pre-decessor of Alex Jones et al., justifiably distrustful of government and corporations, but taking that distrust and applying it dangerously: anti-vaxx, anti-schooling, pro-militia, he held a collection of positions now familiar to many of us. The piece is well structured to present him as a complicated man. Using many real quotes (charmingly indicated by a lit up QUOTE sign), they effectively pull us into agreeing with him at times - he was right that world governments are frequently cruel, that the monopoly on violence is too frequently abused, that the social contract has been one sided since it was signed - and then sharply reminding us of who he was, a wifebeater, a liar, an antisemite. Fantastic acting and accent work by Jonty Weston as Bill make the character feel real - the nervous, erratic energy is palpable. The one missing element is a compelling argument for his motivations. Clearly his beliefs were deeply held, not a mere grift, and there is material outlined that could become a compelling story of how his psyche developed- an abusive father, a period in the military- but this isn’t developed.
Another big highlight is the music, by Ruby Connolly, Megan Jenkins and Christoper Weeks. Efficient, creative lyrics (Jenkins) and catchy tunes (Connolly) are perfectly balanced with just enough humour to keep it light, mixing narrative with analysis in a way that lightly recalls a classical chorus. It’s mostly accoustic guitar, in an American Country style that lends itself very well to the amount of information given lyrically. Proud patriot saviour of this proommmmised laaaand has been playing in my head on repeat since I left the theatre. There is a creative freedom and playfullness best exemplified by the sudden introduction of kazoos during a song about domestic abuse - it absolutley should not work, but it does, this musical trio completely understands the balance of comedy and tragedy needed in theatre.
Aesthetic choices scratched an itch in my brain for trash Americana - if you love a strip mall or gas station at sunset, you’ll love the vibe of this piece. Double denim, faux-terazzo linoleoum floors and battered mid-century office furniture ground it fantastically in time and place - the poor bit of the USA, between the war and the financial crisis. Jonjo McGuire, set designer, has pulled off a rare feat in fringe theatre of putting together a stage that is beautiful, ergonomic and completely believable. Hats off - his name is now one that will make me book in an instant if I see it on a creatives list. Lighting, by Nick Eve, is also very high quality and certainly contributes to the elevated feeling of the good bits.
And yet the play overall is not fantastic, because, inexplicably, there are frequent extended sketches. Even if they were very good sketches, they would confuse the chronology and do little to further the story. These are not good sketches. They involve things like party wigs on ambiguously European-accented aliens; a US colonel using his hand to impersonate a parrot; Cletus-style charicatures of the rural poor. The humour is somewhere between teenage boy and colleague who breaks out accents after 4 pints. I have no idea what on earth the Red Fox writers room thought these added. At one point we’re treated to a trailer for a fictional movie adaptation of the book Bill wrote, which departs entirely from the substance of his book and seems to be mostly a critique of sexist thriller movies - not an inaccurate critique, but it just kept going, dragging on for what felt like fifteen minutes of pure cringe. These extended, Little Britain style vignettes are especially infuriating in how they squander Rachel Barnes significant acting and musical talent.
I have no idea whether I would reccomend seeing BILL. It’s like recomending a gourmet meal someone has doused in piss. There’s something really fantastic under there, if you can grit your teeth and ignore the truly awful bits.
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David- Thanks for this useful and insightful review. I have mixed feelings about extended sketches. But the fact that you recognized in this piece that there are such a thing as extended sketches definitely shed the Bill at a different light. I appreciate it.