Two actors walk on to the bare stage; they have never met before and they know very little about what they are going to perform. They have seen no script and there has been no rehearsal. What follows is situated somewhere between conceptual art and improvisatory theatre. Last night’s two performers, Nir Paldi and Stephanie Kempson, are certainly no newcomers to experimental theatre. Nir Paldi is Co-Artistic Director for Bristol-based Ad Infinitum, while Stephanie Kempson is a writer and director from Sharp Teeth, whose monthly multi-genre shows at the Wardrobe Theatre have become something of a local institution. Writer Greg Wohead has always performed in his own plays in the past, but in Celebration, Florida the two actors are surrogates for him. They hear his disembodied, pre-recorded voice through their headphones, and they have to speak his words and perform the actions he commands. We hear none of this, though we occasionally see text projected on a screen.
It is also on that screen that we discover the origin of the play’s title. ‘Celebration’ is a modern township in Florida, created in the 1990s by Disney, so the architectural style is a predictably ersatz confection of mock Georgian, mock Southern plantation, mock everything. It’s a place without any sense of place; a surrogate for towns with a real history. Surrogacy features strongly in Celebration, Florida, as does loneliness and, I think, trust. We have to trust the actors to faithfully deliver what their headphones are telling them to do, and they have to trust that the author is not going to make unreasonable demands upon them. It’s a brave thing for them to do.
We learn that Wohead is alone in a hotel room in Florida, which he describes in meticulous and all too familiar detail, right down to the sachets of tea and coffee. He wonders if he might make contact with someone local through an app he has on his phone, and he speculates upon how such an encounter might go. The conversation he imagines having is the epitome of small talk; it is as sadly predictable as are the contents of the hotel room. Gradually Celebration, Florida abandons being a straightforward account of a lonely night in a hotel, and becomes more surreal.
The action, often vigorous, is frequently accompanied by various versions of Stand By Me, a song about the need for companionship. There might be a hint of ‘stand for me’, too. We hear that song many times, and indeed there is a great deal of repetition in the show which eventually becomes a little tedious. Wohead has had a great idea for an innovative form of theatre, but he has perhaps been less successful when creating the content. This play certainly asks a great deal of its actors; I wonder what they thought of it? After all, it was as new to them as it was to the audience. Celebration, Florida is intriguing, surprising and, at times, baffling. It will not be for everyone, but if you like to see theatre that bravely ventures into new territory, it might worth giving it a try.
★★★☆☆ Mike Whitton 15th November 2018
