Theatre Review: Kes in the Courtyard, Leeds

Bringing Kes back to its Yorkshire home, the WYPH, celebrate the life of its recently deceased writer in the Courtyard Theatre where LEO OWEN caught the show.

Robert Alan Evans’ new two man adaptation is controversially a “13+” show, exploring Barnsley-born Barry Hines’ much-loved and well-studied 1968 novel, A Kestrel for a Knave. Opening with complete darkness and an onslaught of sound, Evans represents the damaged mental state of the adult Billy Casper, tortured and shaped by memories of his troubled past.

Max Johns' set doubles as both interior and exterior with old arm chairs and an upturned bike amongst wooden crates and a wooden slatted ramp centre stage. There’s a living room to one side and an office on the other as the sound of horse racing from a radio disturbs the stumbling terrorised lead (Jack Lord).

Director Amy Leach’s silent opening uses physical theatre and is heavily reliant on facial expression. Grinning and collapsed in a chair, Lord finds an old comic book with aged notes to his younger self tucked inside, triggering tormenting memories. Finding his name scratched into an old desk, brings his younger self to life (Dan Parr), flitting across stage to recall finding Kes for the first time.

The adult Kes skilfully transforms into multiple characters, including Billy's bullying older brother Judd, to narrate his youthful journey. Billy's paper round and the scaffold frame of the set become his playground as Lord brings to life most of his community.

Evans’ script is a damning comment on Billy’s mining community, describing a "dirty grey smudge... [he] could rub out..." Stopping at a Financial Times subscriber’s house poignantly highlights the poverty of Billy’s home situation as he stares through the letter box, marvelling at the "wall-to-wall" carpet and the luxury of having a bath; to contrast, back at home his mother begs to borrow money from her fifteen year-old son while attempting to scrounge a "fag".

There is some light humour from Billy's unsympathetic gym teacher, forcing him to take a cold shower and admitting, "I were born fully grown with a tracksuit on" but, despite faultless performances, it’s difficult to truly feel for Billy.

Leach’s talented and captivating cast of two are failed by Loach’s non-story. Despite the show’s short 75 minute running-time, its intended climax could easily be missed and although Johns' set is ingenious, prop and special effects, such as projection, feel under-used at times.

As a classic literary text and adaptation of Ken Loach’s film, Kes has enough of a following to already have nearly sold out but it’s sure to divide folk, not content with faultless acting who require captivating narrative too. It’ll be interesting to see whether community venues embrace Kes as warmly as last year’s Talking Heads.