JADAR

★★★★☆

WAKE subverts the rites and structure of a traditional Irish wake to create a club culture-infused frenzy of ritual, rave, grief and joy, with cabaret, circus, and more. Following two sold-our runs at the National Stadium in Dublin, Ireland, it made its international premiere in the West End (Sadler’s Wells’ Peacock Theatre) earlier this month and is now having its UK regional premiere in Manchester (Aviva Studios, Home of Factory International).

WAKE is created by Jennifer Jennings (great name!), Phillip McMahon and Niall Sweeney, with the former two directing, with text by Carys D. Coburn. They have successfully, and smartly, subverted the traditional rites and structure of an Irish wake. A rave is, in some ways, the opposite of a wake, not only in tone but also purpose, with the former being a raucous, riotous, debaucherous, sensous celebration, where one cannot feel more alive, and the latter being a subdued, solemn, sombre ritual to mark death; the end of a life. By paring these two juxtaposing circumstances, we are encouraged to not only grieve the dead but also celebrate their lives – and to live our own lives to the fullest because we, too, will die one day.

The show is, essentially, a cabaret, complete with aerial, burlesque (boylesque!), character comedy, drag, hula-hopping, pole-dancing, spoken word, striptease, and, of course, Irish dancing, to an electric, eclectic soundtrack that ranges from Irish folk music to ’80s, ’90s and ’00s club bangers. Compositions, sound design and musical direction come from Alma Kelliher, with additional composition by Darren Roche. The music serves not only to create a club rave atmosphere but also, potentially, to celebrate a lifetime, by virtue of marking various decades, allowing audiences to reminisce through the years. By including traditional Irish music, the show makes clear that the intention is not to offend traditions but, rather, disrupt and update them.

WAKE begins with an actual (well, not an actual) wake, with the cast mostly donning black. It’s all very bleak, moody and traditional. But then it implodes, as grief turns into joy. The whole cast soon fill the stage, singing and dancing along to Whitney Houston’s ‘I Wanna Dance with Somebody’, in one of the most exhilarating song and dances I have ever seen. Phillip Connaughton’s choreography celebrates both life and humanity, including the human body and form – and what we can do with it. The big group number near the end, to Eurythmics’ ‘Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)’, is especially exhilarating.

The set (by Niall Sweney – also graphic designer) looks very much like a cabaret or circus, with a circular stage, with seats around most of the stage, but a wall at the very back, preventing the show from being fully in the round. It’s immersive but there is a separation between audience and artist and, perhaps metaphorically, life and death, with a sun/moon (also representing life/death) dominating the sky-like wall. I cannot imagine the show working as well in a traditional end-on theatre (like the Peacock Theatre, where it was performed in London); the separation would be too pronounced.

Julian Smith’s costumes are camp and sexy but some are dark and gothic. Mark Galione’s beautiful, evolving lighting creates atmosphere and ambience as it guides us through liminality. A large circular LED light shifts between a sun and moon on the horizon. Such contrasting imagery reminds us that death is just around the corner. The show asks us to focus on life but it does not ignore nor deny death; death is not only inevitable but also very much a part of life.

The incredible international cast is made up of Adam Matthews, Alma Kelliher, Cristian Emmanuel Dirocie, Darren Roche, Deirdre Griffin, Emer Dineen, FELISPEAKS, Jade O’Connor, Lisette Krol, Lucia Mac Partlin, Michael Roberson, Philip Connaughton, Ryan McClelland, and Jenny Tufts.

Lisette Krol, a three-time World Doubles Pole Champion and an Ireland and UK Soloist Champion, is, indisputably, one of the best pole dancers/performers out there. Her segment is not just a dance but rather a theatrical performance. Her physique is impressively muscular but she showers herself in the glamour associated with femininity; it’s a tantalising contrast that does away with expectations of gender. Philip Connaughton similarly breaks down gender ideals with his comedic striptease. There’s also a drag king!

Michael Roberson is an Irish dancer from America with a body like a Greek hero. He is muscular, masculine and mesmerising, but also unafraid to be camp. His solo number, in which he dons tight, tiny, gold briefs, as he swings from the ceiling, had the entire audience in awe.

Whilst the various themes and ideas are all well thought out, the narrative structure of the show is a bit wonky, disjointed and incohesive. The show flicks, a little aimlessly, between high-energy numbers and slower moments of reflection. Some of the acts are, ostensibly, guests (and a DJ) at the titular wake. Others seem to be more figurative representations of themes and ideas. But some of the connections feel tenuous.

There could be a stronger, clearer, more linear narrative and thematic throughline to allow the show to fully realise its ambitious, artistic concept. I appreciate that the intention might just be to create a weird, whacky, wonderful and whimsical world where we do not have to think too hard about anything. However, there are powerful moments of depth, so it cannot be brushed off as the show deliberately not taking itself too seriously.

On a personal note, I have an irrational fear of ageing and, indeed, death. Yet I am often so focused on the future that I forget to live in the moment and enjoy the present. WAKE does not aim to sugarcoat – we’re all gonne die! – but, rather, it uses death as a prompt for life. We cannot change the inevitable but we can change how we get there. We are encouraged to enjoy every living, breathing moment, before our time is up. Whilst the show uses a rave as a metaphor, we’re not actually being told to party our lives away (unless that’s what you want to do, of course) but, rather, live our lives to the fullest, for tomorrow is not promised.

Whilst it is ostensibly about death, WAKE is life-affirming. The narrative could be more cohesive but the themes and ideas alone are enlightening and uplifting. It is one of the most infectious, subversive and transformative pieces of art that I have ever had the pleasure of witnessing. A sensuous spectacle from start to finish.

I will leave you with the lyrics to an iconic musical song that, although not used in the show (missed opportunity!), summarises its purpose.

“Start by admitting, from cradle to tomb, it isn’t that long a stay. Life is a Cabaret, old chum. Only a Cabaret, old chum. And I love a Cabaret.”

WAKE runs at Aviva Studios (North Warehouse) until April 21.

Photo: Ruth Medjber