Kin, National Theatre review
In the first week of Kin’s run at the National Theatre, the UK government cleared its bill to send asylum seekers to Rwanda and continued to evict homeless refugees onto the streets despite sub-zero temperatures. Against an unfolding backdrop of populist immigration policies, the latest production from Amit Lahav’s Gecko Theatre is a sharp reminder of the reality of the human lives so often used as pawns in political games.
Kin is a deeply personal story for Lahav, inspired by the journey made by his grandmother in 1932 as she fled persecution in Yemen and travelled to Palestine. Ninety years later her experience still resonates, and serves to highlight the ongoing and indiscriminate cruelties faced by immigrants and refugees across the world.
The company of Kin by Gecko. © Mark Sepple.
The production unfolds through a heady, restless combination of physical theatre, mime and dance. We follow groups of migrants as they are brought together and repeatedly driven apart, facing racial prejudice at the hands of cartoonishly cruel border guards. The talented ensemble manage a rotating cast of characters well and puppets are used cleverly throughout to remind the audience that loss is never too far away.
Whilst Lahav’s message about the universal suffering of migrant experience is clear, the performance stumbles in its lack of distinct characters and storylines. The use of multiple languages and voices throughout is clever, but means there is little personal connection to the drama unfolding on stage. As we shift quickly from small boat crossings to visa offices and first-generation households, characters become stereotypes rather than individual stories.
Where Kin stands out is its technical expertise. Chris Swain’s lighting design is mesmerising - flickering vignettes showing moments of suffering emerge from the darkness onstage, and we travel from sun-scorched desserts to moonlit oceans. Composer David Price’s and Sound Designer Mark Melville’s soundtrack carries the performance, seamlessly shifting the mood from the jovial drunkenness of dancing border guards to take us on treacherous journeys across borders and reminding us of the hopelessness of lost lives.
The company of Kin by Gecko. © Malachy Luckie.
There is no doubt that Kin is an extremely important piece of theatre. It celebrates the talent of its multicultural cast whilst raising awareness of the issues of dislocation and prejudices faced by immigrants on a daily basis. However, there is distance between the characters and the audience – it is only in the final moments that we learn about their individual stories, and viewers are left wanting more.
Kin is on at the Lyttleton Theatre, National Theatre London until 27 January. Location: National Theatre Upper Ground South Bank London SE1 9PX. Price: £20 - £69. Book now.
Words by Ellen Hodgetts
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