Belt Up and The Boy James

Over the past few years I have been consistently impressed and surprised by the quirky compelling plays produced by the theatre troupe Belt Up, who normally perform at Southwark Playhouse, near London Bridge as well as at the Edinburgh Fringe. Audience participation is usually compulsory, at least to some extent.

Belt Up have performed The Trial in the vast disorientating space under the London Bridge underground in almost pitch black. Blind folded when you entered the space, one at a time, you were placed in the room away from whoever you had come with and forced to listen to eery music until everyone else had entered. I sneeked a peek under my blindfold, but there was little use as the room was so dark. We had to follow the lanterns that appeared between scenes to find our way in the dark to the next scene. The confusion and darkness of the space was perfect for a dramatisation of Kafka, whose common theme in his works is his protagonist's complete bewilderment about where he is, who has power and what the rules are.

They have performed a fantastically funny version of Moliere's Tartuffe with funny French men in berets, wonderful slapstick and use of props. The audience was seated on sofas and comfy chairs and I had a cuddly toy lion, larger than me, by my side. It was impossible to avoid getting involved in the play as the actors were remarkably persuasive about getting the audience up on stage at certain points.

In a couple of weeks I will see Belt Up perform Macbeth, not in Southwark Playhouse, but in an old prison! I expect it will be very dark...

Belt Up performed a wonderful dreamlike play a year ago which I remember particularly vividly as I unexpectedly had a key role in it. It was called The Boy James, based on the story of Peter Pan. This came recommended by Stephen Fry who tweeted about how much he had enjoyed it. This play was particularly special for me as I was the main audience member to participate in the play. I read a poem about flying at the beginning and a letter from an adult James to the boy James at the end. So I kind of started and ended the play inadvertently.

The play was partly so perfect because the actor playing the boy - based on Peter Pan perhaps - and the setting created a very childlike atmosphere. On the way into the space we could see pages of books hanging from the ceiling and greenery suggesting a wood with a safe haven inside, perhaps the lost boys den. Once inside the surprisingly small space, we sat on cushions on the floor and sofas behind. It was very cozy and intimate and there was barely any floor space for a stage. 


The only actor on stage was a boy in his pyjamas, who told us all to make friends with the people beside us and then asked if we'd made a new best friend. Then he asked who wanted to read a poem and picked me as my hand was up. The poem was about flying and was very reminiscent of the start of Peter Pan. Then he asked us who knew how to play It. He got a group of four to say two words each in turn to describe the rules. He made us play the game in a circle, then he told us to use the whole room and then he turned the game into Stuck in the Mud. The actor managed this all in a cute boyish voice in his pyjamas.

It is partly the unscripted feel of the play that made it powerful, you felt the main actor was genuinely interacting with the audience, wanting to play. Making the audience talk to each other and play games, and the intimate space where everyone was sitting cross legged on the 'front row' all around the 'stage' meant it was very gripping and hard to distance yourself. 

Next the boy told us to hide behind our coats or other clothing. We did this for a while making silly noises in a circle as the actor playing the adult James - presumably J M Barrie the author of Peter Pan - came in and left.

Then the boy talked about imaginary worlds and adventures and ran out of the space to enter via a cupboard. He gave one audience member a button and one some purple thread. He told the audience and a new character- a girl who appeared from the fireplace, and who he'd apparently met in the park - that we would go on an adventure with James next.

But when James came back he wanted to leave for good. He had contributed to the books and furniture and sheets from the ceilings and passwords but now he picked up his suitcase and tried to leave. He'd written a letter to the boy James explaining why he had to leave but the boy could not read. The boy kept jumping on the man's back to try and stop him leaving until the girl slammed the man James' head on the table so he passed out on the floor.

The girl - presumably based on Wendy - was violent, bossy and tried to kiss and seduce the boy James, showing him how to kiss and saying they had to take their clothes off, which made him curl into a foetal position and sob. She also wanted to play pirates and Tiger Lily. 

The man James recovered from being knocked out, hugged the boy James and left. The boy then asked if anyone could read him the letter. I had wanted to read the letter to the boy since he received it and been so sad that he could not read it. I was so involved in the action I had almost forgotten it was not real. So I got up and sat in the chair next to the boy on the floor and read the letter to him tenderly, emphasising the fact that the man James loved him dearly. Then the boy held my hand and told me to show people out. It was incredibly moving and he was clutching the letter and sobbing til the end. I ruffled his hair out of sympathy.

Afterwards in the bar an elderly couple said me reading the letter was the best bit of the play. They wanted to know if I had been planted in the audience! Another couple also said I was very good. I thought it would be nice to get a copy of the letter I had read as it had made me quite tearful so I snuck back near the dreamlike theatre space. I asked a staff memeber if I could have a copy of the letter and he took me to the changing room and asked. The actor that played the boy James looked surprised but had a pile of the letters and gave me one. He was in a vest and the pyjama trousers but he looked much older and cockier. It threw me out of the make believe world in which I had believed this man in his 20s was an incredibly vulnerable boy. But it was lovely to get a copy of the letter. Here is an extract from it:

To the boy James,

I have to leave you.

It's not that I don't love you, I do. And I know you love me.

I hold a million memories so near and dear. Some lit by the brightest of sunlight on sunny afternoons; others hidden in pockets of moonlight, sneaking past the post-curfew gazes of midnight.

...

To the fond memory of all our times at each other's side,

James