I hope the blizzards raging over the South West won’t deter would be theatre-goers from getting to the Ustinov tonight and tomorrow night to see Mark Lockyer’s blistering one-man show. This is a tour de force – a warts and all confessional piece in which Mark relives his true-life experiences with manic depression. But he has such an eye for the ironic, the hilarious, the fearful as well as the cruel effects of the condition, that his performance will make you realise, at the end, that his very appearance before you is nothing short of miraculous.
A tale of extremes, Lockyer’s journey follows a tortuous downward path, but his great skill as an actor and narrator allows him to pepper the road with a cast of characters that tell you as much about the real world as his own altered consciousness. Along the way we meet three girlfriends, a judge, police officers, his mum, doctors, nurses, company and theatrical directors, care workers, a fellow inmate and a Greek guy wanting more than just company. Lockyer snaps from being one to the next, changing demeanour, facial expression and voice to suit each so that the stage seems filled with crowd of players. His timing is a masterclass.
After welcoming the audience personally at the door and offering everyone a cup of tea and a hobnob biscuit, Lockyer begins his story. He was a successful actor for the RSC, playing Mercutio in Romeo and Juliet at Stratford. He had some hours to kill before a performance. Finding a quiet spot in the surrounding countryside, he sat down to enjoy the peace – until a fiendish stranger turned up, Lockyer’s very own devil, who turned his world inside out. Mayhem takes hold. In scenes that would resonate with anyone suffering stage fright, Mark survives a major on-stage meltdown but soon finds himself completely unable to function. His descriptions of his fall into despair and terror were as livid as his physical ownership of an almost empty stage. This isn’t an easy workout. Lockyer’s powerhouse delivery takes you with him every step of the way, to places of fear, guilt, shame, loneliness, embarrassment, always with an internal conversation that is brutally honest. His pace never falters.
At the end, Lockyer stands as living proof that there can be some resolution to mental illness, even triumph over it. In some ways he has been lucky. His fate could have been so different had those those with the power to lock him away for years not given him the opportunity of redemption. Living With The Lights On represents all those on another side of ‘normal’. A great cry from a terribly lonely place. This is a memorable piece of writing and an equally memorable performance not to miss. ★★★★★ Simon Bishop 1st February 2019