The play centres on five people waiting in a queue; none of them seemingly know what they are waiting for, but all are desperate to get first place in line.
Order rules and chaos runs wild in this delicious one-act play in which a line has never been as crooked or flat, depending on your relationship with its conspicuous constraint or nonsensical outrageousness.
In a play in which five characters have nothing in common except breathing, but still seem to have everything to lose, there is something wicked and playful about a line that controls the actions and forces, and them, to want be the first in line; and even if they end up third or fifth, second is always better, but then, first is still the ultimate goal.
This competitive dominance to find our own place in life, and sometimes within ourselves, becomes a malicious virus that eats away at the fibre of our morality and ultimately reveals our true nature.
There has to be order and in Line, order becomes a gold medal that divides winners from losers, and separates ourselves from those who need to always be first and don't want to lose out on something that could be a grand first experience. If you are first in line you have control, and for the characters in Line, it means everything to ground them in their own reality and justify their intentions.
What this reality is, or why it is of importance, is something the audience has to figure out first, or be the last to know, and then strangely, it seems that those who are lost, usually end up being the first either to cause havoc, or the last to understand.
It's an amusing and silly dance with life, in which morals and meaning are at war with banter and conflict.
The Line defines who we are and forces the characters to use their individual traits to rule the kingdom created by the line; sexuality, maliciousness, nastiness, aggression, cunningness and barbaric rudeness reveal its true nature during the endless battle to be first in line.
Line brilliantly shows that if strangers are forced to be competitive, human nature becomes a monster that unveils our humanity and destroys our morality.
As the beginning of a first who is promised gold, it turns the last into hot-tempered washouts and sets fire to the ruthless competitive nature that shows others who we are and makes us realise who we are and what we are capable of.
Yes, you have to be a cunning and malicious champion to rule the line (or a clever manipulator), and if you end up losing, the spirit of winning starts a new line that is out of order and its only prize is shame.
The ensemble instil their own bizarre absurdness into their seemingly normal characters; there's an explosive danger lurking in the basketball fan (Leon Clingman), a malevolent childishness in the Mozart fundi (Bjorn Steinbach), a brewing hostility in the temptress (Marlisa Doubell), aggression in the shady Doyle (Aidan Whytock), and a volcano is about to erupt in the tormented husband (Gavin Werner).
The cast are all great in their respective roles and work well together as an ensemble under the direction of Yvonne Copley, with sound and lighting design by Nigel Sweet that amplifies the emotions and illuminates the battleground.
Line is fun, so cross this line if you are looking for amusing and thought-provoking theatre.
If you want to see Line, get to Computicket first or to the Little Theatre, and if it happens that you are not the first to be in line, you will also not be the first to be last.
For more info go to sugardaddytheatreco.yolasite.com
