Review: No President at Southbank Centre

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You are unlikely to ever see something quite like this

Nature Theater of Oklahoma blends drama, dance and comedy to make their London debut with No President; one of the most bizarre shows I have seen this year. Perhaps due in part to the unrelenting heatwave which has been beating down on London, this American theatre company’s performance is a proper fever dream, writes Melina Block.

Even describing the plot of No President is a difficult task. To put it very simply, we follow best friends Mikey and Georgie, two actors who are working as security guards being threatened by a rival security company of ballet dancers, all while competing for the affection of their already partnered up supervisor. Things spiral out of control from here as they descend into absurd shenanigans to retain their positions and win the affections of the supervisor.

From unashamedly explicit sexual acts to cannibalism, this show has it all, with the narrator presiding over the surreal action as he describes the show’s descent into absolute chaos with blink and you’ll miss it rapid fire wit.

The slapstick physical comedy grows more and more extreme, with some head scratching scenes that will make you look around and question if that really just happened. At some points it feels as though the show is hurtling forwards too quickly, as if you could lose focus for two seconds and suddenly be completely in the dark about what on earth is unfolding on the stage.

Verging on being a bit too confusing without the much needed payoff, this show requires a potentially difficult or even unrealistic level of concentration to unpick just what exactly is actually happening. While it is hard not to admire the intelligent writing of the script and seemingly boundless energy of the cast, there is very much a sense of borderline pretension to this performance which some people may struggle with.

These are clearly properly trained dancers and actors, pushing the boundaries of live theatre while displaying a reverence for the freedom and expression which can be granted by the arts.

By the end of No President, although it is difficult to feel fully assured that what you have just sat through was really worth it, you can at least remain certain that you are unlikely to ever see something quite like this anytime soon – for better or worse.

No President. Southbank Centre.

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