Writer: Kelsey Marlowe Jessup
Director: Kira Gaudynski
On a YouTube video, actor and writer Kelsey Marlowe Jessup explains that her short play, It’s Nothing Personal, Just Business, is for all actors, directors, theatre people and creatives who have found themselves ‘up against the structures which saturate their industries’. Her desire is to offer new ways of being creative by encouraging us to take risks and to play.
Put like that, it sounds quite promising. The reality is a long monologue, some of it in rhyme, delivered by Jessup in a muted, downbeat style. This she intersperses with extended moments in which she simply pays attention to little props: ‘these things have so much life!’ Her default mode is the pregnant pause. There are an awful lot of these. You could fashion a whole one-act Pinter play out of them.
There are some bits of classical music and short scenes strong on whimsy. There’s a toy cat. She throws a tennis ball around and tries out dance moves. At one stage, she scatters handfuls of miniature toy soldiers on the ground, which she occasionally rearranges. Literal-minded audience members worry she’ll accidentally tread on one in her stockinged feet. You also get a bit of meta-theatre: at the beginning, Jessup sits in the audience eating from a big tub of popcorn, waiting for the play to begin.
There are some mildly entertaining moments, such as when she unscrolls a lengthy bit of paper – her unloved CV, apparently. When all the lights suddenly go out, she explains to her long-suffering crew member (a good turn by Clement James) all about her financial circumstances, which have led to her not paying the venue in time. But cash is found and cookies promised, and the lights go back on.
What’s it about? Jessup’s main beef is the way the theatre industry is stifling real talent by insisting on glib entertainment. Her little skit in which she is hounded by Robo-Thespian doesn’t quite hit home, however. Surely the one thing stage actors can be sure of is that they’re not going to be replaced anytime soon by AI?
The play drifts on, the silences accumulating. We can’t help wishing director Kira Gaudynski would tighten things up a bit. Jessup ends by reading a sizeable chunk of writing by Russian theatre practitioner Nikolai Demidov, an acolyte of Stanislavsky. We are encouraged to serve truth and follow our hearts.
But we need a bit more show rather than tell.
Runs until 26 April 2025
The Reviews Hub Score
On being unappreciated
