Can something as minuscule as a flea really change the course of one family’s history? Well, according to James Fritz’s new dramatisation of the 1889 investigation into thefts at the London Telegraph Offices… maybe.
The sequence of events is ignited when 15-year-old Charlie is left desperate for money. His father was clobbered in the head by a pantomime horse spooked by a flea-bitten rat and left for dead (NB yes, a pantomime horse, no that bit didn't really happen). With Jack the Ripper’s memory fresh in her head, Charlie’s mother lives in fear of being thrown out onto the streets. But no worry is needed, little Charlie is here to save the day.
For a while, that is. Fritz’s satire is a tragedy waiting to explode. Charlie (played with doe-eyed innocence by Séamus McClean Ross) starts to bring home the pennies after being convinced to work for a male brothel. His mother asks no questions, she’s just happy to have the means to survive. But soon, an inquiry starts to swirl involving the King-to-be, a maggot and a treasure trove of secrets after Charlie is found with 14 shillings in his work locker.
Arrested and questioned, Charlie reveals how he’s really been sourcing his funds. Fritz - certainly one the most boundary-pushing playwrights of today, then contorts his script into the most satisfying of whodunits. Suspects are introduced in a jolty dance sequence, accompanied by mugshots. Spotlights are used to enhance the presence of new clues. It is down to the famed detective (a bullish Scott Karim) to solve the mystery, but as with any good crime drama, the audience is just as desperate to know about and hidden skeletons that happen to be unearthed along the way.
The absurdity in Fritz’s script is pushed to the fore by Jay Miller’s production. The cast play their roles with garish, spiky glee, wearing lavish cloaks made out of thick patterned carpets and constantly changing make-up. Norah Lopez-Holden is the core: she swaps between playing a sober narrator and a squeaky, wig-donning parody of Queen Victoria. Kudos must go to the set and costume designers, Naomi Kuyck-Cohen and Lambdog1066 who contort this traditional Victorian setting into something eerie, dark and tense. But Fritz is a playwright with loftier goals than a mere reproduction of history.
A trip of a show, it plays out like a twisted Alice in Wonderland fable. And there are reflections of our current moment at every step. The police are corrupt. Charlie’s mother’s fears of walking the streets at night are the same as women have now. Those born into a position of advantage always seem to come out on top. Underneath all the camp tomfoolery, this an eye-opening dissection of power and privilege across time.
There’s the occasional dip – it takes a minute for Connor Finch to find his feet as the love-struck and foolish Lord Somerset. But he comes back fighting as the more interesting pimp mastermind Henry Newlove. No matter though. This play is never even close to boring – what a riotous, quirky ride it is.