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Author
Robin Soans

Director
Max Stafford-Clark

Design
Jonathan Fensom

Performers
Chipo Chung
Christopher Ettridge
Alexander Hanson
Lloyd Huthinson
Ruth Negga
Catherine Russell
Christopher Ryman
June Watson

 
Royal Court Theatre
30 June - 06 August 2005
Talking to Terrorists is a new drama by the verbatim theatre specialist, Robin Soans. It is superbly staged by Max Stafford Clark and extensively and carefully researched from a wide variety of interviews. The play is entirely composed of the words of people involved with terror. The accounts and opinions of real killers, elicited in conversations by Soans and members of the cast are voiced by actors; but the effect is curiously un-shocking. A Ugandan terrorist tells us "We killed with total commitment. We fought; we tortured." Former Irish operatives takes us through their greatest bombs; we are told of people who hack limbs off children; of stealing underwear from the dead. But for an audience used to television documentaries this form makes the appalling information irresponsibly palatable. You are not looking into the eyes of people who have murdered and maimed, you are looking into the eyes of actors - it softens the moral impact and makes the interest almost prurient.
      The play takes its title from Mo Mowlam's dictum: "Talking to terrorists is the only way to beat them". It opens with her, and though her words are used verbatim she and her partner Jon are played for laughs, she raises a titter every time she uses the word 'fuck' and Jon, whose stiffened gait and vacant, amiable smile is supposedly faithfully re-enacted, comes across as a complete idiot - something which I suspect he is not. The former Secretary of State for Northern Ireland herself, seems colossally egocentric - something she may be. She says, "Tony seems to have learnt nothing from history. If you want to change their minds, you have to talk to them. They won't do it very willingly because they don't trust you, but yes, you have to talk to terrorists." This is the guiding principle of the Royal Court's production and the reason why, as the tube train rumbles into Sloane Square Station beneath your feet, it seems so misguided. There are no terrorists to talk to, and London in its grief and shock is not at the talking stage. Although reviewers at the start of its run called this play 'the most important and illuminating work of the year', the bombs in London have exposed it as simply superficial. It doesn't have anything to add to the urgent questions of the moment, its seems like a relic of a time when people could be more easily reassured that there really is a talking cure for terrorism.
      There are genuinely moving moments in the play, however, and some fine performances. The story of the Ambassador to Uzbekistan and his wrestling with his health; his conscience; the foreign office and his love life, has humour and pathos. You get an inkling of what it might be like to be locked up in a hole underground when the Terry Waite character tells us, "I could say in the face of my captors' 'You've tried to break my bodyÖyou haven't; you've tried to break my mindÖyou haven'tÖbut my soul is not yours to possess.' But that in essence is exactly what is being said by themÖ'You can invade my country, do what you will, but my soul is not yours to possess'. But at the same time as bringing home Waite's privation, this comment underlines the inherent weakness of factual drama. If the facts change the drama is fundamentally undermined. Depositions by real terrorists from different conflicts are intercut throughout the play in an attempt to elucidate universal themes that underlie the brutalities of political terror. But the terrorists who bombed the city last week did not come from a country that was invaded and had not suffered the torture and humiliation of which the terrorists in this play talk.
      Perhaps Robin Soans could have recut the play, certainly a television documentary would have been recut after the bombs. Perhaps new interviews could have made
Talking to Terrorists more relevant. Perhaps the events of this summer simply show the dangers of 'real-life drama': Real life moves on, this drama got left behind.
Charlie Taylor

Royal Court Theatre
Out of Joint