Writer – Graham Hill
Director- Jake Sleet
Another year, another November, and so a small crop of World War One plays arrive that have Journey’s End conspicuously hanging over their heads. Don’t Shoot The Meistersinger purports to be a comedy, and so invokes the ghost of Blackadder Four. Unfortunately, despite moments of brilliance and a very strong young cast, it reaches neither of those pinnacles and instead becomes bogged down in sub-plots, sex jokes and appearances from God.
1914, and preparing to go off to war we meet Private Ernie Potter and Gemeiner Walther Von Stolzing (both played with a talent for understated comedy by Finn Pile). Then in the trenches we meet two sets of soldiers, Allied and German (all played by Alfie Noble and Joseph Aylward), already jaded in the face of these new recruits. We then meet Dorothy Lawrence (Mia Finnigan), a reporter desperate for a good story. Add into these appearances from prostitutes, love interests, parents, generals and, yes, God himself (all, deity excluded, gamely realised by the cast) and the story soon becomes bogged down. There are two taut plays lurking within all this stage business: that covering the two sets of frontline soldiers, and another following Dorothy’s story. Mishmashing both together means that writer Graham Hill’s admirable notion of letting Dorothy finally speak gets lost, whilst, barring a very effective final scene, the flashing backwards and forwards to home slows the momentum.
It also feels occasionally as if we’re treading familiar ground without adding anything new. Hill’s strongest moments are when he leans heavily into either the comic (Noble’s Hans Sachs’ explanation of war as schoolyard fighting, or a strange carol singing battle), or tragic (Aylward’s Ramsbotham railing against the pointlessness of death). However the balance feels off and moments when we want to stay with one style are quickly overwhelmed by the volume of scenes, and their need to consistently restate what is happening and its meaningfulness. Director Jake Sleet unintentionally adds to this. While his direction of the actors is excellent—ensuring they ham it up only when necessary and allowing for real pathos—there is a notable lack of music, and scene changes feel awkward, emphasising rather than hiding their length and frequency. When the play is divided into two excessively long halves, this becomes a problem.
But the cast is undeniably good. Noble steals the show with his comic delivery and Aylward with his moments of tragedy, whilst Pile provides quiet support that, at the end, turns devastating. Finnigan is wholly committed to her part(s) and delivers an on-the-nose but impactful speech with the emotion needed to carry it off. Emily Littman (as most of the other women) is sadly under-utilised and is in the unfortunate position of being in the most unnecessary subplots but has a moment of glory in the final few minutes.
Don’t Shoot The Meistersinger is much, much too long, overstuffed with scenes that take away from its emotionally charged central plot and frequently funny set pieces. Its cast make the best of the material that veers from subtlety and strong comedy to jaw-opening exposition. Unfortunately in this case, what is emotional and comedic is overridden by overwriting.
Runs until 12 November 2022
