The Bee ****

Soho Theatre, London

****

"This show is seriously surreal: so much so that you can barely believe what you’re watching, or that your emotions have been so caught up in something so fundamentally bizarre, or that the horrific scenes you witness are actually being played out again and again before your very eyes. "

Having completed its world tour and been embraced by Tokyo and London audiences and awards alike, The Bee circles back to perform again at the place of its origin in 2006, The Soho Theatre. That it has left audiences across the world reeling does not surprise me at all. The plot line is bizarre: when an office worker discovers his wife and child are held hostage by an escaped convict, he turns tables and kidnaps the prisoner’s family in return, starting a horribly twisted exchange of sawed-off fingers as each attempts to out-do the other. 


Whilst the abstract surrealism (pencils were snapped instead of fingers) removes the need for naturalism and gruesome special effects, the impact of such viciousness still reverberated around the room with quite astonishing force. The piece revelled in its predictability, with the latter section of the play repeating a beautifully choreographed pattern of daily activities that culminated, each time, in a finger’s removal.  Perversely, this sense of inevitability had precisely the opposite consequence to what one would expect: rather than switching off, I found myself straining to pick up every nuance of the actors’ actions, desperate to spot any gestures or expressions that hadn’t been there the previous time they had gone through the day-to-day motions.

With connected elastic bands multifariously indicating microphones, noodles, or the fluidity of forces in play against the office worker, this performance felt very dynamic and contemporary, without ever taking itself so seriously that it descended into the overly pretentious. The use of props was hugely compelling, particularly the noodles, which were so realistically eaten I actually felt myself gag in sympathy. Acting was quite outstanding on all fronts. This production is a wonderful illustration of how powerfully androgyny in theatre can be used: here, Kathryn Hunter plays such a convincing man that my companion remained convinced until after the end of the performance that she was one; conversely, the wife Hunter repeatedly rapes is actually a man in drag. With a grown man convincingly playing the part of a young child, the audience are encouraged to suspend their disbelief and become wholly absorbed into the play’s world.

It is quite astonishing how inescapably seductive and mesmerising the psychotic nature of the performance became through a combination of haunting music and wonderfully designed movements.  As the lights came up at the end, the shock at being released from the play’s grip left me – quite honestly – laughing. This show is seriously surreal: so much so that you can barely believe what you’re watching, or that your emotions have been so caught up in something so fundamentally bizarre, or that the horrific scenes you witness are actually being played out again and again before your very eyes. Utterly bewildering, the shock response of laughter was, in a way, testament to the stunning way in which the cast negotiated the balance between aesthetics and violence.