Writer: Mark Glentworth
Director: Julia Stubbs
Mark Glentworth’s SEVEN and a Half YEARS is a one-hour, one-man show in which the writer/performer mines his experience of a devastating period of depression which left him a recluse. The opening scene in which we see Glentworth, pre-collapse, suggests his stressful life as a composer, performer and music teacher. The witty suggestion of his constant fielding of ever-more demanding telephone calls is nimbly directed by Julia Stubbs. Glentworth, the programme tells us, was once a highly successful percussionist. Here he performs his own songs, using them to narrate the arc of his story which of course ends in recovery.
Glentworth’s songs are certainly likeable: the lyrics and melodies are, for the most part, gently melancholic. But gentle melancholy is far from searing distress. And this is really the issue with SEVEN and a Half YEARS: its generic leaning to musical theatre works against any exploration of genuine depths which would make his suffering really connect with the audience.
Even if we look to the spoken parts of Glenworth’s show for his unique insight into his experience, we are to be disappointed. Most frustrating is his continued insistence that has no idea what it was all about. Perhaps when he finally consults a psychotherapist there will be belated revelations? But the two therapy scenes, improbably conducted on a mobile, consist of the therapist bowling him soft questions and his responding with a song. Both sets of lyrics are rainbow-coloured versions of two childhood dreams in which Glentworth presents himself as a rescuing hero. But where, we wonder, is the gritty stuff, the painful analysis of what might have brought him so low?
Again Glentworth’s chosen genre allows him to gloss over this. Indeed for almost its entirety, he deliberately hides from us two of his most significant relationships. We have been led to assume he is a loner who has distanced himself from his friends and whose only contacts now are his parents. So it comes as a puzzling surprise when there is a message on his answerphone from a more immediate family member. If he really had has no contact with him throughout, the lyric which includes the line “You were always in my heart” seems glib and unearned.
Runs until 30 December 2023.
