Sean Burnett Dugdale-Martin
The King in Yellow is a script reading as part of the Six Degrees festival at BATS Theatre and see’s a stage adaptation of the original text brought to life in the studio space three stories up. Simon Burgess, whose masters project this is, wanted their end of year project to be a work of cosmic horror brought to the stage- something exploring the themes of existentialism and the fear of the unknown, as they are core to the genre.
Without a stage production we focus purely on plot, pacing, and construction. This is the lens I don as I enter into the studio, four chairs in a line, an actor in each, and I make my way to the back row to watch from afar.
I’m familiar with Lovecraftian horror, I’m a fan of the genre and I have my perspectives on the ultimate themes inherent to it. I am also a playwright to middling success- you won’t find me in the Playmarket archives, but I’m prefacing with context because of the constructive criticism to follow.
The King in Yellow was originally a book of short stories by Robert W. Chambers first published in 1895. The book was named after the play mentioned within the first few stories, which was never written for the reader to read, but instead was a device that made each character who read it descend into madness. This production, in 2024, is a reimagining from this premise: what if a small theatre company tried to stage this forbidden play?
My perspective on the themes of cosmic horror is that it is inherently a genre about the perseverance of human hope. Of course, texts can delineate from this, but a recurring idea is how humans, so small and ultimately fragile, are faced with otherworldly beasts or despairing contexts which drive people mad because of the overwhelming sense of helplessness. As a metaphorical genre it leans itself well into positing different challenges as devoid of solution, and it is within a metaphor like this where the play, I think, is starting to sing.
The setting see’s Thomas Wilde (Billy Healy-Melhuish) directing the first production of The King in Yellow, an amateur director who has expired all favour with other contemporaries. This guy is an impulsive, impatient, gaslighter who refuses to listen to anyone else. Among his unfortunate cast are two friends of his, John Machen (Cameran Law) and Becca Allan (Sarah Robinson), and rounded out by newcomer Amber Philips (Renee Heayns).
The metaphor, at least in my mind, comes from each character's desperation to create great art how they are willing to endure harmful, one-sided and manipulative relationships to achieve it. ‘Achieve it’ is perhaps too generous a word, because it’s nowhere near guaranteed. It’s a flimsy shot in the dark for these young performers, it’s a community theatre production of a script no one has heard of. I know that feeling, though, of being young and wanting to be great.
It reminds me of some of Damien Chazelle’s films, La La Land is about sacrificing healthy relationships in order to strive for some sense of greatness as an artist, and ends with the main characters contemplating the potential reality, one where they could have both the career and the right partner, if only they did not fall into the fallacy of urgency. Whiplash see’s a young drummer put through hell by an abusive, screeching jazz teacher because he believed the ends, of great art, justify the means.
In this production of The King in Yellow the otherworldly being is the yellow light of the theatre stage, beaming down and encompassing the players. The call to create some real art, to be noticed as a great artist, seems to be an insurmountable mountain when you’re only just graduating, and is something that every young creative can’t help but draft a road-map for conquering. We are willing to work with people we don’t like, work for free, work more hours than we should, not eat, not sleep, to try and make a mark in the social stream of consciousness.
So as a premise I learn to like The King in Yellow but in execution I find it difficult to love. The pacing of the script goes from one point to the next fairly quickly, but there are montage scenes which I think are unnecessary. Without a proper staging, they are more confusing than funny or refreshing or informative to the plot or characters. Perhaps when the full production comes next year, as promised in the program, these moments of medley will make more sense.
The dialogue within the script needs work. Too many times are characters revealing for too much, with either on the nose dialogue or over-acted emphasis. The director character lacks any redeeming factor and ends up not having any depth. Instead of having this character be so arrogant, which is what is really pushing the envelope as to why Becca and Jon stick around with the guy, I would encourage the team to make the director desperate in a jovial way. A happy go lucky dreamer that has something inside him that he needs to get out, but just doesn’t have the right words at the moment, and requires their trust in him to make his dream come true. To shift Wilde in that direction would evoke some more empathy, in my opinion, and have the audience understanding, if not rooting, for the decisions he makes later in the play, rather than Wilde’s direction at the moment which borders on pantomime-villainesque at times.
The writing of the female characters makes me wince considering the only lengthy conversation the two female characters have begins with Becca being jealous of Amber’s role even though the play started with Becca not wanting the role anymore. It comes across as catty and lacking relational thinking. This person seems childish and impulsive and can’t help but attack the only other female character.
A particularly uncomfortable moment within the play is after the characters are starting to feel the ineffable effects of the theatre upon them and Jon strikes Amber, as it says in the stage directions, but without any prior fight choreography and he actually does hit her. She complains that this is messed up- which it absolutely is, but director Wilde says they should all be professionals about this and it’s fine. Essentially it’s a scene of a woman not only being made unsafe, but literally getting hit, and the two men- one of which is the leader and holds the power in their group context, ganging up on her to get over it.
This moment could have been quite powerful, and harken back to the ends justifying the means, but instead feels as if it is glanced over- a potentially dangerous lack of care.
I went in thinking that it was odd to have a play reading as part of a Masters of Fine Arts, but I’m glad that Burgess decided not to stage this yet and instead opted to have a development season reading of the script. It has a long way to go, but it is giving itself the time it needs. I look forward to the next development of The King in Yellow and am hopeful that the team will put great time and care into where it is lacking.
It’s on at BATS until the 14th December 2024, more info here.
I’m familiar with Lovecraftian horror, I’m a fan of the genre and I have my perspectives on the ultimate themes inherent to it. I am also a playwright to middling success- you won’t find me in the Playmarket archives, but I’m prefacing with context because of the constructive criticism to follow.
The King in Yellow was originally a book of short stories by Robert W. Chambers first published in 1895. The book was named after the play mentioned within the first few stories, which was never written for the reader to read, but instead was a device that made each character who read it descend into madness. This production, in 2024, is a reimagining from this premise: what if a small theatre company tried to stage this forbidden play?
My perspective on the themes of cosmic horror is that it is inherently a genre about the perseverance of human hope. Of course, texts can delineate from this, but a recurring idea is how humans, so small and ultimately fragile, are faced with otherworldly beasts or despairing contexts which drive people mad because of the overwhelming sense of helplessness. As a metaphorical genre it leans itself well into positing different challenges as devoid of solution, and it is within a metaphor like this where the play, I think, is starting to sing.
The setting see’s Thomas Wilde (Billy Healy-Melhuish) directing the first production of The King in Yellow, an amateur director who has expired all favour with other contemporaries. This guy is an impulsive, impatient, gaslighter who refuses to listen to anyone else. Among his unfortunate cast are two friends of his, John Machen (Cameran Law) and Becca Allan (Sarah Robinson), and rounded out by newcomer Amber Philips (Renee Heayns).
The metaphor, at least in my mind, comes from each character's desperation to create great art how they are willing to endure harmful, one-sided and manipulative relationships to achieve it. ‘Achieve it’ is perhaps too generous a word, because it’s nowhere near guaranteed. It’s a flimsy shot in the dark for these young performers, it’s a community theatre production of a script no one has heard of. I know that feeling, though, of being young and wanting to be great.
It reminds me of some of Damien Chazelle’s films, La La Land is about sacrificing healthy relationships in order to strive for some sense of greatness as an artist, and ends with the main characters contemplating the potential reality, one where they could have both the career and the right partner, if only they did not fall into the fallacy of urgency. Whiplash see’s a young drummer put through hell by an abusive, screeching jazz teacher because he believed the ends, of great art, justify the means.
In this production of The King in Yellow the otherworldly being is the yellow light of the theatre stage, beaming down and encompassing the players. The call to create some real art, to be noticed as a great artist, seems to be an insurmountable mountain when you’re only just graduating, and is something that every young creative can’t help but draft a road-map for conquering. We are willing to work with people we don’t like, work for free, work more hours than we should, not eat, not sleep, to try and make a mark in the social stream of consciousness.
So as a premise I learn to like The King in Yellow but in execution I find it difficult to love. The pacing of the script goes from one point to the next fairly quickly, but there are montage scenes which I think are unnecessary. Without a proper staging, they are more confusing than funny or refreshing or informative to the plot or characters. Perhaps when the full production comes next year, as promised in the program, these moments of medley will make more sense.
The dialogue within the script needs work. Too many times are characters revealing for too much, with either on the nose dialogue or over-acted emphasis. The director character lacks any redeeming factor and ends up not having any depth. Instead of having this character be so arrogant, which is what is really pushing the envelope as to why Becca and Jon stick around with the guy, I would encourage the team to make the director desperate in a jovial way. A happy go lucky dreamer that has something inside him that he needs to get out, but just doesn’t have the right words at the moment, and requires their trust in him to make his dream come true. To shift Wilde in that direction would evoke some more empathy, in my opinion, and have the audience understanding, if not rooting, for the decisions he makes later in the play, rather than Wilde’s direction at the moment which borders on pantomime-villainesque at times.
The writing of the female characters makes me wince considering the only lengthy conversation the two female characters have begins with Becca being jealous of Amber’s role even though the play started with Becca not wanting the role anymore. It comes across as catty and lacking relational thinking. This person seems childish and impulsive and can’t help but attack the only other female character.
A particularly uncomfortable moment within the play is after the characters are starting to feel the ineffable effects of the theatre upon them and Jon strikes Amber, as it says in the stage directions, but without any prior fight choreography and he actually does hit her. She complains that this is messed up- which it absolutely is, but director Wilde says they should all be professionals about this and it’s fine. Essentially it’s a scene of a woman not only being made unsafe, but literally getting hit, and the two men- one of which is the leader and holds the power in their group context, ganging up on her to get over it.
This moment could have been quite powerful, and harken back to the ends justifying the means, but instead feels as if it is glanced over- a potentially dangerous lack of care.
I went in thinking that it was odd to have a play reading as part of a Masters of Fine Arts, but I’m glad that Burgess decided not to stage this yet and instead opted to have a development season reading of the script. It has a long way to go, but it is giving itself the time it needs. I look forward to the next development of The King in Yellow and am hopeful that the team will put great time and care into where it is lacking.
It’s on at BATS until the 14th December 2024, more info here.