Oli Forsyth “Brace Brace” Royal Court Jerwood Theatre Upstairs

Simon Jenner October 18^th 2024

“She walked right up to me.” “I was in a decisive phase.” Ray and Sylvia are at it again with words that define them: retelling the defining moment in their relationship: a hi-jacking and their responses to it. It fuels Oli Forsyth’s Brace Brace directed by Daniel Raggett at the Royal Court Upstairs till November 9th.

The couple rewind to when they met. Sylvia’s decisive phase never ends, so when as Ray says :”A plane fell out of the sky. And I happened to be on it” the mantra might not be inclusive enough. It’s certainly not “we happened”. And that – how we experience the same moment differently enough to divide us – is how Forsyth spools out this 70-minute part-thriller part-PTSD.

“There’s a really bad bit coming.” That’s on repeat too, in rapid exchanges between two people presenting comedy coupledom on speed, then scenes served raw. Ray (Phil Dunster), a failed stand-up is attractively hangdog, just tinged with blokeism; funny when not trying. He confides Sylvia’s well-off family had a grandfather plumber: “The only way we could get a gig here.”  He retrains as a teacher. Digital campaigns manager Sylvia (Anjana Vasan) whether in a decisive or moments later “philosophical” phase drives the relationship affably: they fall headlong, marry, start their honeymoon on an airliner.

Anna Reid’s striking black set features a cordoned-off ramp through the centre of the traverse stage leading to a door (often cockpit): opposite there’s a drop where actors can fall.  It’sa  thriller in itself. Elsewhere the couple cavort or slump inches from the audience. Four screens light up for a TV interview and airport cues (video design Matt Powell) but strikingly a light panel slants on its axis above. Simeon Miller’s lighting is good on glare and starkness; Paul Arditti’s sound springs ironic surprises outside a jet-screaming envelope. Set, lighting and sound are outstanding.

Both Sylvia and Ray have moments where they can’t accept versions of events. They almost agree on the child (Lianne/Lyla) they’re asked to chaperone, which complicates things. Whilst The Man (Craige Els in four roles) rushes to the cabin Sylvia rushes there too, as Ray tries tackling and is knocked unconscious. A struggle ensues.

Sylvia’s briefly lionised and Ray reacts badly, returning to school too early. Then an interviewer throws a googly. Suddenly it’s Sylvia who can’t move on. Rendering each character with a relatable twist, Els (known for Just for One Day) reappears as Lianne/ Leyla’s grateful but mission-bent father. He’s helming a class action against the airline (ultimately successful) infuriating Sylva, who blames the disturbed Man. Later Els arrives as the airline pilot who nearly died: he takes the opposite view, but is uncomfortable in a different way.

Where Forsyth excels is probing fissures of experience, how an event separates people. And how their individual characters inform that difference through the event and after. It also shapes how one is far more affected. “I didn’t ask to be this person” Sylvia says, but equally a test she set Ray as she first walked up to him, resonates at the end when Sylvia fires back: “natural selection weeded you out.”

“He is responsible, he is guilty….” There’s worse. Vasan’s Sylvia consistently burns through her belief in individual agency and responsibility. Trauma sears her further into an individualism that trusts no-one. Sylvia sees ulterior motives in someone offering her a seat. Dunster’s affable Ray believes the fact that buttered toast tends to fall butter-side is how the universe is stacked. Until he rowed back from that, Sylvia’s first gambit, she prepared to walk away.

Forsyth signposts his themes but is elsewhere subtle and witty in his character-driven play. There’s elements that might seem forced: Ray’s initial resentment, Sylvia’s extreme fugue lacking nuance. Though Sylvia’s personality at least in part prepares for this.

Raggett, whose superb Accidental Death of an Anarchist last year also traverses an event and its outfall, paces this too with a touch of that rapid-fire shift in truth-seeking teetered over the abyss. In a play layered with blink-miss metaphor, Forsyth suggests it’s how you believe factoids about buttered toast. Sometimes they drop out of the sky and you leap to catch them and get butter all over you. Or not. A sizzling must-see.

Written by Oli Forsyth, Directed by Daniel Raggett, Set Design Anna Reid and Lighting Design Simeon Miller, Sound Designer Paul Arditti, Casting Director Arthur Carrington, Video Design Matt Powell, Fight Director Alex Payne, Stage Manager Lavinia Serban, DSM Lizzie Cooper, set Built Royal Court Stag Department & Ridiculous Solutions.

For the Royal Court; Lead Producer Hannah Lyall, Sound Supervisor David McSeveney, Lighting Programmer Lucinda Plummer, Costumer Supervisor Katie Price, Production Manager Marius Ronning, Lighting Supervisor Daisy Simmons, Company Manager Mica Taylor.