Our review of Apologia
A sublime evening at the theatre

sublime therical lightning
there is something magical about Apologia, a moment captured in a snow globe, teetering dangerously on a see-saw.
It's shows like these that remind me why I got into this racket, the ones that silence us for a time after, play on our minds because of a great plot, performance or point of view. Apologia fulfilled all of the above for me.
Set in a comfortable middle class kitchen (all potted Cacti, stained wood and jazzy wine glasses) somewhere in England, we meet Kristin, an eminent Art Historian, famed activist and mother. It's her birthday she's just published an illuminating memoir detailing her varied life from stait Connecticut corset to the front line of a CND protest and more. The only problem with this tome? Her two children, Peter and Simon, do not appear at all.
As the family begin to descend with assorted partners, the tone of the evening is dictated by cold chicken stranded in a broken oven, a mysterious mask purchased in an obscure African village and the stilted civility found at many a dreaded family reunion.
Channing reminds us why she is a star as she manages to both make us fall in love with her and her ideals, whilst condoning her attempts at motherhood at the same time. She is full of wit and depth, utterly believable as Kristin and clearly having a great time.
But like Kristin She is only a part of this shining ensemble, acted with vigor and talent by all involved. Joseph Millson's dual role is fantastic at showing his range, from the the stoppered older brother Peter who is barely able to contain his rage, to Simon sensitive and thoroughly wounded by their upbringing.
Freema Agyeman shines as the brash soap actress and Simon's errant girlfriend Claire, her juxtaposition with Laura Carmichael's bright eyed and bushy tailed Christian Trudy (Peter's fiancee) is truly hilarious to watch, as is Carmichael's transformation from blithe comic relief to essential player as she becomes the only one to get through Kristin's tough outer shell.
Jamie Lloyd meets his task with his trademark approach, including his use of loud between act music that always evokes a violent, on your seat reaction. He builds up moments of tension then knocks them down so suddenly you're chasing the feeling of giddy relief, mirroring the comedy-drama-comedy timbre of the writing.
For anyone who has ever known a stiff Christmas or an uncomfortable Birthday celebration, who's been unable to verbalise just how it is they fucked us up, our mum and dad, Apologia will ring close to home. But Alexi Kaye Campbell never condescends to try and offer an schmaltzy explanation or resolution, only presenting the differing opinions as they would appear in reality. Yet for all that, there is something magical about Apologia, a moment captured in a snow globe, teetering dangerously on a see-saw.
Apologia is at Trafalgar Studios until November 18th
Reviewed by Kitty on Monday 31st of July
@ThisIsKittyMac