I’m a volunteer at the Old Fire Station in Oxford – no, I’m not sliding down poles and putting out blazes, I’m an usher for their shows. That basically means turning up early and pointing out the loos, tearing tickets as people go in, and washing up some glasses afterwards. All in all, a great way to see some free theatre, comedy etc and support a worthwhile cause.
Usually I pick the things I’m particularly interested in seeing, but I signed up for Snowflake by Mike Bartlett chiefly because there were a lot of performances (for the OFS – usually there’s only one or two) and all hands were needed on deck. As I sat in my reserved seat, tickets torn and loos pointed out, I realised I didn’t know at all what the play was about. But I’m so glad I went because it was very good indeed. And the first press night I’ve ushered for!
Snowflake starts with a man, Andy (Elliot Levey) sitting in a village hall with ‘Welcome Home’ hung up behind him. There is a Christmas tree and a model house – and, if you were sat in my corner, you’d have spotted a picture of Queen Elizabeth II hung up (as seemingly requisite at village halls up and down the land). It’s a lovely, homespun set – as, indeed, all the sets at OFS tend to be.
Andy is practising how to say hello. Should he say it while standing up? Should he read a book, so as not to seem like he’s waiting? It is the first taste of the very funny observational comedy that Bartlett writes, and Levey acts, so well. The first 35 minutes, indeed, are a monologue – which Andy addresses, hypothetically, to the person he is waiting for. We gradually realise that it is his daughter Maya, who left two years ago and hasn’t been in touch – or responded to his 47 text messages.
The monologue is perhaps five or ten minutes too long, but it’s impressive that it sustains our interest for at least 25 minutes – due to Levey, yes, but also Bartlett’s exceptional ability to balance funny lines and genuine heartache, as well as the mystery about why Maya left. Details of their background are dropped in naturally, alongside amusing sidetracks about an old lady called Esther who looks like Esther Rantzen (but isn’t), how best to greet someone in a cafe, how this reunion might be like a storyline in Neighbours, and all sorts of other things.
In the closing moments of the first half, a surprise arrival, Natalie (played by Racheal Ofori) shows up. I shan’t tell you more about how she fits in, but what a joy Ofori is to watch. I’m excited to see where her career will lead. The second half picks up with Andy trying to get rid of her, and Natalie insisting on slowly wrapping plates in bubblewrap. She is lively, bright, witty, and presses all of Andy’s buttons – they make an excellent sparring pair, and the second half is as funny and moving as the first. It’s great to see wonderful actors given wonderful lines, and directed so ably. The tone is judged perfectly by both of them, and we never feel like we’re lurching between moods even while we cover the whole gamut. And I haven’t even mentioned the significance of Brexit in it – the discussions around it are even-handed, and even wise – rather a balm at the moment.
And I shan’t spoil more, but I would encourage anybody in Oxford to get tickets while they can. The OFS gets a lot of good stuff, but it’s not often that it sees the premiere of play written by someone of Bartlett’s caliber, with an Olivier-winning director in the shape of Clare Lizzimore. I assume this will tour or appear elsewhere – but, for now, Oxfordians you’ve got until 22 December to see it!