There is little point me attempting to write a synopsis of Sea Wall- I feel incapable as I’m not
clever enough to sum it all up. The play’s official description says it best as
a ‘uniquely intimate portrayal of humanity’. It is a masterful and honest monologue, written by
Simon Stephens and performed by Andrew Scott, perhaps the two most talented men
in their fields right now. Scott plays Alex, a man telling stories of his life’s
little joys and great tragedy- he is completely open to whoever’s watching. His
stories are written and told in flurries of words placed perfectly in tandem feeling, and rhythm.
Stephens once came into my school, to do a talk, and he was unforgettably
fascinating and inspiring. I went home, googled him and found a 2009 Guardian review of Sea Wall at the Edinburgh
Fringe. I remember the writer coining the performance ‘the most devastating 30
minutes’ you’ll ever have in the theatre. I still remember that phrase.
It is a ‘devastating’ play, but it is significant now that the
devastation isn’t in a theatre. This pandemic has removed theatre, the concept,
from theatre, the place. It has meant that new meanings are cast onto archived
pieces of work and Sea Wall encapsulates how and why this has been successful.
Watching Scott’s performance as Alex feels so centred, so direct and almost
personal. This filmed version of the play isn't a live performance recording, but a film in itself that was released in 2o11. Now it can be streamed on YouTube. In this rare chance, theatre can exist accessibly as one person talking to one
person listening. The residual symptoms of watching a play are eradicated and I
think this makes it more intense, more true.
The way Stephens writes love, life and God makes you really,
really feel something. Humanity is in one sentence ‘completely falling inside
[oneself]’ and in the next merely a ‘bit of meat and air’. The
rugged juxtaposition of the poetic against the literal grants Sea Wall
the ability to be both grounded in a reality and elevated in concept. Stephens
is able to sum up the giant philosophical pillars of existence into anecdotes
about supermarket shopping, and it works really beautifully.
Scott is perfectly cast. Watching him breaks you out of any consciousness
that you’re watching someone act, or even speak. His fluidity and rhythm convinces
you that you’re just watching a person be. You’re entranced by his story:
who Alex is, what he’s been through, or why he has chosen to tell you. The openness
is so raw and so moving. Scott’s performance is dynamic, like the ambiguity of
Stephens’ writing. You’re witnessing an existence that is both transient and permanent.
Sea Wall is available to watch
until the 25th of May
