Shraddha

Campaigning theatre, done well, is marvellous but spending over an hour inside someone else's social conscience can feel as cluttered and uncomfortable as a council delegation in a Romany trailer. Playwright Natasha Langridge's comment, in the script introduction to 'Shraddha' ('faith' in the Romany language), that 'I sometimes felt that the Romanies I met were the true humans' is as ominous as the eviction notice her Romany characters receive, and for similar reasons: both signal a displacement, emotional or geographical.

Across a metal fence, gorger (i.e. non-Romany) Joe (Alex Waldmann) and Romany Pearl (Jade Williams) fall in love. Her mother and grandmother, already wrestling with imminent, forced departure from the newly designated Olympics site, are appalled; fearing violence, the lovers run away. It fast becomes apparent that she's a survivor, at one with nature (the Pyramus and Thisbe allusion in that prominent fence is strengthened, somewhat ludicrously, when Pearl kills and guts a rabbit). Joe on the other hand is a bit useless - well, what can you expect from an untrue human?

Unlike Pearl, Langridge is sentimental to the point of silliness: the undeniable power of her language is weakened by verbal quirks (Romany words are fine, but why do the gypsies all say 'ye' instead of 'you'?) just as the clanging injustice of the Romanies' predicament is muffled by such idiocies as Pearl's gran having second sight (although Anna Carteret does her considerable best with the part). To really feel the traveller quandary, watch Perry Ogden's film 'Pavee Lackeen'. It's unfair to compare theatre to film, but then life is a litany of injustices - and not just for gypsies.