Making Noise Quietly, Donmar Warehouse | Theatre reviews, news & interviews
Making Noise Quietly, Donmar Warehouse
A triptych of plays confronts the horror of war with delicate skill
“It’s easy for me to talk to you; we don’t know each other”. Robert Holman’s Making Noise Quietly is a work that, like its title, lives in the delicate push-pull of contradiction: intimate strangers; bloodless wars; silent screams. Not one play at all but three short pieces – panels in an inscrutable triptych – its process is oblique, its emotional momentum cumulative, the impact devastating.
The clamour of war may provide the background hum through all three dramas, but this thematic pedal point scarcely anchors the dissonant roamings of Holman’s theatrical melodies. When Holman writes of war he writes of a picnic in a Kentish field or an unexpected visitor at tea-time. Little is linear or direct, and the truths Holman finds are rarely voiced. It is enough that we know they are there, like the treasures eight year-old Sam conceals in his pockets – fragments shored against our ruin.
Leaving the text itself to take care of shared echoes and refrains, Gill chooses to stress the contrasts of the plays
We open in Kent, witnesses to a chance encounter between two young men during World War II. Both exempt from military service, they talk about sex, sexuality and the ethics of warfare. The central panel finds us in the front-room of a working-class home in Redcar during the 1980s, as a stranger tells a mother of the death (and life) of her estranged son. Finally the scene shifts to the Black Forest in the same decade. A troubled boy and his soldier stepfather find themselves in a the home of a German-Jewish Holocaust survivor, their relationship under scrutiny and negotiation.
First staged in 1986, the Falkands War still fresh in collective memory, this meditation on the fragility of human psychology feels equally potent when refracted off our more recent history in Afghanistan and Iraq. Peter Gill’s new production (with designs by Paul Wills) situates his three panels with the merest of visual markers – a bicycle, a chintz armchair, a tree trunk – blurring episode smoothly into episode. Transitions here (as in Gill’s recent production of A Provincial Life for National Theatre Wales) take on unusual significance, flooding the stage with actors so that each fragile two-hander emerges from the crowd, one potential story among many.
Share this article
Subscribe to theartsdesk.com
Thank you for continuing to read our work on theartsdesk.com. For unlimited access to every article in its entirety, including our archive of more than 10,000 pieces, we're asking for £2.95 per month or £25 per year. We feel it's a very good deal, and hope you do too.
To take an annual subscription now simply click here.
And if you're looking for that extra gift for a friend or family member, why not treat them to a theartsdesk.com gift subscription?
Rising star Gemma Arterton shines in West End outing for jolly Restoration romp
The one where love conquers all in Matthew Perry's fatally artificial debut
Richard Bean's ribald bakery comedy is proof of a gap year well spent
'The mother of the blues' leads theartsdesk's stage tips
Peter Brook revisits 'The Mahabharata' with a perfection that ultimately feels chilly
Shakespeare's tale is told quietly here but with tremendous charm and impact
David Lindsay-Abaire's examination of grief is smart and sincere, but too studied
False notes mar Ibsen's unsettling mix of the real and the supernatural
August Wilson's Broadway debut dazzles anew
Adrian Lester is a blazing triumph as pioneering 19th-century actor Ira Aldridge
Tedious bio-play about Marty Feldman
A company member reveals what happened when the Globe's world tour of Hamlet performed for refugees from Central African Republic