Writer: Gary Owen
Director: Aaron Blackledge
The Doctor has stepped into his blue telephone box and travelled to a new destination, but instead of another universe in time, it’s the middle of Wales, and instead of a Time Lord, it’s a 17-year-old boy. Fricative Theatre’s production Violence and Son sees a Doctor Who-loving teen forced to unite with his estranged father after his mother’s death, with funny, explosive, and haunting consequences. Unphased by the hefty challenge of Gary Owen’s award-winning 2015 text, the direction and performances align in the Golden Goose Theatre for an absorbing recreation.
Liam (Henry Andrews) is 17 and has just got home from a Doctor Who convention. But the dirty, dishevelled house he has returned to doesn’t feel like home. Up until recently, Liam lived in London with his mum, but after her death, Liam finds himself in middle-of-nowhere Wales with his father, whom he doesn’t know. Rick (Lawrence Carmichael), known as Violence to old friends due to a history of bar fights, is trying to be a dad. But Rick’s explosive temper, drinking problems, his interfering girlfriend Suze (Anna Hawkes) and Liam’s teenage tantrums make for a volatile household, leaving both physical and emotional marks on Liam.
When Liam brings home Jen (Lyndsey Ruiz), a friend from college and fellow Doctor Who fanatic, Rick attempts to help Liam in his quest for love, and the fragile household starts to unravel. It is a soul-stirring, witty and haunting exploration of the cycles of violence, and is a hefty challenge for the cast.
Despite some unsteady Welsh accents, good performances from all the cast uplift this production exponentially. Andrews and Ruiz give Liam and Jen a sweet and believable teenage chemistry. Hawkes’ Suze is the perfect mix of well-meaning and fiery, and plays off Rick’s drunken wit and bawdy behaviour engagingly.
The star of the production however is Lawrence Carmichael’s unnerving, dangerous and compelling Rick, or Violence. We are held in a permanent state of danger, fully believing Rick wants to think he would never hurt his son, but witnessing the horrible abuse he inflicts. The audience is permanently on a knife edge to Rick’s mood, as a new beer can is emptied and discarded at flying speed. Owen’s text gives Carmichael a playground to explore the nuances of domestic abuse, and he rises to the challenge beautifully. Henry Andrews’ Liam matches the sardonic precociousness of a nerdy 17-year-old boy and is a brilliant mirror to Rick’s own dysfunctions, but his sarcasm becomes slightly one-note by two hours in.
Aaron Blackledge’s direction feels effortless. The intricate text is not overpowered with needless interference but merely supplements the powerful words, and nurtures good performances out of the actors. The simple, muted staging, centred around a sagging sofa and scattered beer cans, is a perfect fit for the small stage and complex text. The dynamics between all characters have clearly been played and perfected with time and love. A dip in energy at the start of Act Two demonstrates the directorial challenges of Owen’s undulating dialogue, but a valiant effort and brave undertaking from Blackledge is to be commended.
Violence and Son is a startingly honest, unsettling depiction of the complexities of domestic abuse, and unflinchingly tests the limits of how far a parent will go for their child. Gary Owen’s weighty relentless text is no easy task, but Blackledge and the company step up beautifully.
Runs until 9 September 2023
