In 2002, the Shunt Collective created a sensation with their work, Dance Bear Dance that took place in a Bethnal Green railway arch, and saw them propelled to national attention – and the attention of the National’s Nicholas Hytner who, on taking charge of the National the next year, immediately wanted to bring that kind of new and innovative work into the embrace of what a National Theatre should be about. Helping to facilitate the company’s move to a new, semi-permanent base in arches beneath London Bridge station, the National would also provide box office and marketing support for their first show there, Tropicana – but Shunt, who make a virtue of developing their work in what they call “a very organic and unrushed fashion”, found themselves unable to adhere to their original press night schedule on that occasion and postponed it accordingly. When it finally opened last October, it received a batch of mostly negative notices.
But the National have not lost faith in their arms-length prodigy, and continue to both publicise (via their repertory leaflet and website) Shunt’s latest show, Amato Saltone, that began performances from October 18; news now comes that once again the press night is to be moved, “because the development of the show has taken longer than originally planned”; but given their desire to play ‘outside the system’ (my italics), it seems strange that they’re bothering with anything so old hat as a conventional press night at all. If the work is as organic as they claim, surely a press night is virtually redundant, since it’s always going to be something of a work-in-progress.
But just to be sure, they’re giving themselves plenty of time to breath: “When the decision was taken to move the press night, it was clear immediately that there was no point moving it to a date in December as the press night diary was already very overcrowded. So a decision was taken to move the press nights to January which at least for the time being is less busy,” says the press release, without committing to a specific new date. Yet the same press release also states, in the small print of the listings data, that previews (at reduced prices) run to November 23, and thereafter the full price kicks in; also, the show is currently booking to December 23 only. Could they be trying to avoid reviews altogether and never officially opening? A two-month performance period (whatever you call it) is surely unprecedented without press scrutiny. And once full prices start being charged, they are surely, too, officially open for business – and therefore, ready for criticism.
We saw this show November 13, 2005. There is a reason Amato Saltone is in extended previews, hiding from the theatre press. It's not “avant garde theatre” inspired by the seedy stories of noir writer Cornell Woolrich of Rear Window fame. It’s just plain awful.
When we arrived, each of us was given a locker key. Every locker contained a single sheet of paper labeled “Witness Statement” detailing what that person did and saw the night a murder was committed when the lights went out. It was intriguing, yet pointless, as we were never asked to play our witness roles, and the disjointed performances we watched over the next 90 minutes had nothing to do with the murder described in the statements…or with each other. Each scene was self-contained. Most of the scenes involved only one or two people. No words were ever spoken—the actors groaned and shrieked a few times, but had no lines. Sometimes, the live action consisted of a performance, e.g., one female cast member did a cirque-like acrobatic rope twist while hanging from the ceiling. We got full front-and-back nudity out of an actress, lots of folks appearing in nothing but their undies, and saw the same simulated sex act from two different vantage points. All this makes the show sound more interesting than it was. It was theatre of the incomprehensible.
The Shunt players need to do something to live up to the assumption we naturally formed from their advertised association with the National Theatre that they are a talented troupe of thespians.