In the Republic of Happiness

Only on last night's Front Row, whilst promoting Written on Skin at the Royal Opera House (for which I've bought a ticket costing a mere £3!), did I find out that people walked out of 'In the Republic of Happiness'. ARE YOU INSANE??? I saw the play during the previews and I saw not a single person walk out and I sat in the slips where you can see everything (although I may have been concentrating on the play... and I thought I saw Martin Crimp sat in the front row). I like Martin Crimp's work, most of it I have read rather than seen and doesn't always read well on the page (The City being one) but I appreciate him being one of the few playwrights to play with form. This I loved. I had the text in front of me but allowed myself to be guided through the three scenes. The first, a really fucked-up Christmas dinner with the family when Uncle Bob arrives (bad choice of name in the current Saville-age), which had a real Crimpean darkness to it. The second was the chatshow form, where the individuals give their account of their lives and the right to their own opinions. The audience were wetting themselves with the sheer audacity of them, although the form (with songs) did remind me of the recent production of Brecht's Mother Courage at the Greenwich Theatre who used music in a similar way. The only time I questioned the faith was the final scene, not truly knowing where this was going. I can only presume it was to where we are heading - a republic of a sterile, clean, inoffensive world where to be perfect is almost angelic. I thought Crimp has challenged himself well this time and returned to the Royal Court with a bang. So why do I think people walked out? Because if it is billed as an anti-Christmas play, they expect some kind of moral resolution as well as a feeling that this is Christmas. What you don't want is a roll call of obsessions about being molested at airport security or sex abuse... and it was very in your face, which made it all the more funny. But it is nice to know that theatre, even the Royal Court, can produce a play where people do walk out. Theatre seems to be a little too safe these days.

Congratulations on your remarkable insight. The 'vast majority can't stand it' apparently. You know this of course because you've asked them individually, Several thousands of them I expect. How did you do this ? My admiration is unbound. And apparently, on the evening you attended, 'most people had had enough'. More breathtakingly inventive research methodology I expect. I advance the inconvenient possibility that, like me, "the majority" are highly supportive of any serious assault on the self-regarding cancer of modern culture, and felt that this production hit far, far more than it missed. Oh, and on the last night, not a single person walked out.

This is obviously a play which divides audiences - and by divides I mean that the vast majority can't stand it and a few hold it up as a masterpiece of modern theatre. As far as it being a masterpiece goes: will this play still be read and performed in 50 plus years? Probably not. Although if Crimp is to be believed by that point we'll all be eating chicken sandwiches in sterile bubbles, so maybe that's a moot point anyway. Agree totally with the reviewers that the first scene - a stilted family Christmas dinner, interrupted by the arrival of the mysterious Uncle Bob, who proceeds to tell them how much his wife hates them all - is the sort of thing that could have been side splittingly brilliant, in the hands of a different play write. The second act, where the cast all assemble in a game show format, to reel through the five essential truths of modern life, in what I'd assume is meant to be a crushing critique of our modern culture of the individual. There are some genuinely funny moments. That said, most of the parts which are presumably meant to be 'shocking' - such as having sharp-tongued Granny talking about her genitals - are actually pretty cheap, and about as shallow as the society that Crimp is satiring. And there lies my biggest problem with this play. This is a play that seeks to harrow and terrify, as the best satire does, through comedy, our modern culture of the individual. How hypocritical and dysfunctional the middle-class family actually is. OK, fair enough, and there are many plays that do this absolutely brilliantly. Of course, the genius is that if anyone walks out the theatre saying 'that was appalling' - anyone else can raise a knowing eyebrow and just say that they are obviously just too middle class and hypocritical to 'get it'. The ultimate irony though is surely that this production is entirely dependent upon an audience that are going to be altogether too polite to just walk out halfway through (although a fair few did), and a presumably enormous budget (justifiably spent on an extraordinary set). I actually preferred the third act, almost as a stand alone piece - it is shadowed by a desperate feeling of sterility and loneliness. But I know that by that point, most people had just had enough. Oh, the songs. Well, if that was meant to be a comment on our X-factor culture, then bravo, because they produced exactly the same effect on me (i.e. desire to turn it off and walk out the room). Unfortunately neither option was available at the time. In fairness, I have been thinking about the play a lot since. Not always in the most flattering of terms, but still. Lastly, if anyone has any insider knowledge on how the cast workshopped/ rehearsed the middle scene, I'd be fascinated, because it seemed that they were speaking in quite a random order, and occasionally two people would start together - and in the script, it's not specified who speaks when.

I agree with Max (13/12). Fantastic cast, brilliant delivery, funny, tragic. What else could you want. Ps I always book an aisle, and always leave interval or not if I hate something, and I didn't even consider it....

Whilst not totally unenjoyable, and yes there are some very funny bits, it is however utter bollocks. Lots of walk outs even though there isn't an interval. Not a bad start, and some very interesting themes, totally undermined by trying far too hard to be clever. Cast acted their hearts out, suspiciously self aware that we all were witnessing the Emporers New Clothes in 3 scenes. Just awful. To the other reviewers who seem to think that just because it's Martin Crimp (and yes I accept he's generally great), it must be fabulous: get over yourselves. Everyone has their off days. Enjoy it, sure, but don't pretend it's extraordinary theatre that only the intellectually superior can appreciate. I'll enjoy the occasional big mac, and watch X-factor, but that doesn't mean they're both not complete crap.

This is lazy, unfinished writing - and boring as a result. It's very telling that the only positive reviews below are in the 'if you don't like it then you don't understand it' line. Some plays are just bad, and this one irredeemably so.

Very promising start swiftly deteriorated into obscene self-indulgence. If this is a satire then the joke is certainly on the audience. It is neither shocking not titillating to hear the repetition of the names of sexual organs and various expletives; it is pathetic. I can't understand the critics falling over themselves to give the play three/four stars. Surely this would never have been produced in a million years were it not for the cachet Crimp's name has in the theatrical world.

this is what theatre should be brilliant but not for the musical/coward west end lovers this is hard core and best thing I have seen this year

Woefully tedious drivel. Those pretentious types who are praising it and affording it any merit are like the fawning courtiers in an Andersen fairytale, for this Emperor certainly had no clothes.

The play is a masterpiece, simple as that. Martin Crimp is the only playwright currently working in the UK, apart possibly from Caryl Churchill, who can stand comparison with recent greats such as Pinter and Beckett, by virtue of formal and linguistic inventiveness, and philosophic pertinence to the wretched times we're living in. Ignore most of the feeble-minded gibberish in these comments, and go and see.