The Golem is as old as the human imagination. In Jewish mythology it is a shapeless mass of living stuff formed from the earth. It is Adam without a soul. It is Frankenstein’s creation, it is Capek’s ‘robot’, Tolkien’s malign creature. It is brought to life by esoteric incantation. It serves mankind – it’s creator, but mankind can lose control. The relevance of this ancient story for today is all too clear. Suzanne Andrade’s modern allegory is a clever and witty reworking of mankind’s dream-turned-nightmare.
The great success of this show comes from the blend of acting, music and projections. The 1927 Theatre production embraces technology and uses original film and animation projections by Paul Barritt with breathtaking precision. We’ve seen something similar before: walking along a projected street is one thing, but to have the smoke appear to rise from a physical cigarette or to glug animated drink from a real mug or again to flick away a spider from a projected portrait – all done with some wit – that is very clever and uniquely stylish.
The story revolves around the fortunes of Robert (Philippa Hambly) who is a member of wannabe, revolutionary, anarchist, punk band, ‘Annie and the Underdogs’. By day Robert works in the mind numbing, binary backup-backup department of the company that also employs Joy (Rowena Lennon). The mutual attraction between these two diffident characters seems to be developing nicely until Robert buys a handmade Golem from his friend, serial entrepreneur, Phil Sylocate (Nathan Gregory). Sylocate is seduced by loads of money into selling his bespoke Golem business to an unscrupulous conglomerate and before long the world is swamped with Golem Mk.IIs that are – surprise, surprise – beginning to control their masters. Robert’s Mk II convinces him to be more of a go-getter and to dump frowsy Joy in favour of a couple of sleeker younger models. Happiness of course does not ensue.
The whole piece is of a style. Robert is like a little boy so desperately trying to be grown-up, but bashfully, for fear of giving offence, only able to speak from the side of his face in a kind of timid forcefulness, finger pointing ineffectively upwards for emphasis. Julian, who works in the same office, would like to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing, but is really just a harmless geek whose ambition to be office manager is thwarted by Robert, who having abrogated his will, lives in thrall to his manipulative Golem. Joy meanwhile is a woman with a reservoir of unused life the key to which is that elusive thing, a sympathetic soul. Even revolutionary Annie has an underlying innocence that infects all but Golem. At every turn we recognise the tale as being about us, not by any slap in the face, but a gentle tickle in the ribs.
Golem, this timely modern parable, is packed with innovation, imagery, music and thought provoking episodes that fill the ninety minutes with unalloyed theatrical magic. ★★★★★ Graham Wyles at Bristol Old Vic on 1st June 2017
