Guest Blog: Director David Mercatali On Violence, Celebrity and TONIGHT WITH DONNY STIXX

Two years ago, Philip Ridley called me up to say he was working on a companion piece to one of our previous collaborations, the explosive Dark Vanilla Jungle, which had charted the downfall of a vulnerable young woman in our increasingly violently patriarchal society. This would be the journey of a young man who had become victim and perpetrator in that same violent world - a sensitive soul with a dangerous edge, who you wanted to cuddle one minute and run away from the next. He was Donny Stixx, an entertainer with the confidence to go all the way to the top. I fell for him from the start.

The play emerged during a backdrop of almost permanent violence in America, something that appears to be increasing day by day under the gratuitous and inflammatory campaigning of Donald Trump. Since 1966, America has had 127 mass shootings that have claimed 874 victims. This is a staggering statistic, and what is even more alarming is that the vast majority of these crimes were carried out by young men. This is a crucial issue, and one often getting overlooked in the debate.

The stories that come out often have a theme to them: lonely, isolated male, anger and frustration at the heart of their existence, a need to lash out and show the world that they are important, they matter, they are somebody. This last part has a particularly chilling resonance when you look at the fame obsession in today's society, often based around notoriety rather than talent. All of this chimed so much with Donny, it was scary.

When Sean Michael Verey came on board, a regular collaborator with myself and Phil who has an intrinsic understanding of the rhythms and depth of Phil's writing, we spent hours looking through the stories of these young men - their background, family, motivations. There was nothing that bound them all neatly together, but the issue of fame and celebrity kept coming back over and over.

The videos of Elliot Rodger, labelled the 'virgin killer', are an uncomfortable watch for his words but also his performance, clearly revelling in the idea that the world would watch his "wisdom" and that he would become a celebrity in his own right, finally getting the credit he was due. The Columbine killers talked about wanting to leave a "lasting impression" on the world. Many of these kids were bullied, marginalised, isolated. Out of that came a desire not just for vengeance, but fame. It was a disturbing connection to make.

We also watched videos of The X Factor and Britain's Got Talent, the modern equivalent of the Victorian freak show, where deluded, untalented individuals - probably after being told they're brilliant by encouraging producers behind the scenes - are served up to Simon Cowell et al to be shot down and humiliated for our delectation, while we laugh and a studio audience cheers.

It's public humiliation of the worst kind, one we have become desensitised to and where we have stopped acknowledging our own cruelty and insensitivity. Laughing at such unfortunates is fair game: they went on the show, they know the score, and we need a distraction, something that reminds us that our own frustrations, our own insecurities are maybe not so bad by comparison.

And then there are all the instances of cyber bullying, Twitter trolling and everything else that has emerged so quickly during the digital age. YouTube videos of hangings and beheadings. Young men are growing up with access to violence a click away, where they can be anonymously attacked online in what must feel like an increasingly lonely and empathy-less time. I saw Donny Stixx at the epicentre of this world.

That was why I wanted to tell the story of Donny on stage. Theatre, at its best, is a well of empathy, direct relation and feeling. People were going to be shocked and appalled by him, maybe scared of him too. But Donny was also a scared young man in a difficult world. And people were going to care about him, in spite of everything.

Telling Donny's story will never stop being relevant, and, in a post-Brexit world where anger and violence and frustration are at an all-time high, he came to me again. And when I considered all the cruelty, the most positive thing I could do was tell his story again, and let him speak for himself.

Tonight with Donny Stixx is at The Bunker 8 November-3 December

Photo credit: Savannah Photographic

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