EUROHOUSE: Finally, a political play as absurd as real-life

It is rare to find a production so self-aware as FellSwoop Theatre’s EUROHOUSE. This restrained and yet wonderfully manic piece considers the increasingly fragile relationships in the EU, through the dynamics of the relationship between the French ‘Bert’, and Greek ‘Nasi’. Held as part of the Emerge Festival held in the Warwick Arts Centre this week, EUROHOUSE is one of six shows curated by Barrel Organ, a touring company comprised of Warwick Alumni. Barrel Organ create theatre that is self-proclaimed as “self-consciously theatrical”, a quality that is also self-evident in their inclusion of EUROHOUSE.

We are led, quite literally, into the world of ‘Bert’ (Bertrand Lesca) and ‘Nasi’ (Nasi Voutsas) as the audience are invited to take each other by the hand prior to the start of the ‘performance’ and form a chain, which immediately destroys the boundary of audience and stage. This act of metatheatre serves as a touching reminder of the idealism of the ‘European community’, whilst simultaneously reiterating theatre’s role as a platform for communal reflection. This self-conscious reflection of the role of theatre had the potential for awkwardness, but instead created an intimate connection between the audience and performers, and reinforced the struggle for unity.

The act of metatheatre serves as a touching reminder of the idealism of the European community

The exceptionally physical nature of the play allows both actors to rejoice in movement as they gambol about to the theme of Claude François’ ‘Comme d’habitude’. As Nasi and Bert’s relationship turns sour over a packet of M&Ms, we watch their circuitous decline of the harmony once illustrated through their synchronous dance and musical interludes, which become steadily more divided. The audience originally applauded the spectacles performed by the duo, but this applause ceases as we too become disillusioned.

Lesca is a compelling portrayal of power, his ability to dominate even silence is disquieting, while Voutsas is endearing for his apparent vulnerability. This is particularly compelling when Nasi is instructed by Bert to vomit up the M&Ms that were offered to him by merely throwing a dirty cleaning bucket in front of him and waiting. Bert goes so far as to help him stick his fingers down this throat, and yet still nothing is said. This silence is only broken when Nasi simply says: “I can’t”. This powerful image plays with ideas of expectation, cruelty and despair.

The play reminds us of the capacity that power systems have for fault and the repercussions of these faults

Nasi is eventually forcibly stripped of his clothes and his dignity in a brutal exploration of the financial crisis of Greece. The intimacy once held between audience and performers vanishes and the audience move further and further from Nasi – he is abandoned both by us, and by the system put in place to aid him.

Whilst the play can seem ‘anti-EU’, which some post-Brexit audiences may find hard (or easy?) to swallow, it serves to reminds us of the capacity any power system has for fault and the repercussions of these faults, especially when positions of power are abused.