Review: DON'T SHOOT THE MEISTERSINGER, Studio at New Wimbledon Theatre

A play about the legendary football match between the British and German troops on Christmas Day 1914, co-inciding with Rememberance Day, should feel both moving and timely. Unfortunately, Profugo Arts' Don't Shoot The Mesitersinger is frustratingly hollow.

We meet British and German troops, preparing for Christmas in the trenches. What follows is a series of unofficial ceasefires along the Western Front. German soldiers start to sing Christmas carols, British troops respond and gradually both sets of soldiers venture into No Man's Land, where they exchange food, gifts and, famously, play football.

The play is less about football than human behaviour. Three actors play both British and German soldiers, swapping white and red vests to show which side they are depicting. This is a simple, but thoughtful way of showing the similarities between the sides; they are all just young men who happen to be fighting. Alfie Noble shows the most differentiation between affable Joe and elegant Hans. Joseph Aylward is thoughtful as Arthur and stiffer as Sixtus. Finn Pile is likable as both Ernie and Walther, but if often very hard to hear.

However, it is the writing that is the problem here. The young cast do their best with a turgid, over-long script and slow direction. Writer Graham Hill has a wealth of material at his fingertips, but there is little exploration or depth to the storylines within the play and, as a consequence, most characters come across as frustratingly one-dimentional.

Female voices come across as token caricatures; Walther's girlfriend Eva has a strange storyline where she becomes increasingly sexually aroused by writing to him and the prostitute Walther visits seems to be taken from a Benny Hill sketch. Even the potentially fascinating, real-life role of journalist Dorothy Lawrence, who disguises herself as a soldier to report on the realities of life in the trenches, is woefully underdeveloped.

The harsh reality of life in the trenches is not reflected: it is mentioned that snow is coming, but the only person who seems to feel the horror of the conditions is Dorothy. A long-running joke about a watch that runs slow should be a pivotal and poignant theme, but feels both too obvious and clumsy in its exposition. The football match itself relies solely on one actor in goal and Dorothy Lawrence providing John Motson-style commentary. It could be funny, but it isn't.

The singing competition between the two sides almost slides into absurdity; the British side performing a version of East 17's "Stay Another Day", accompanied by the female members of the cast gyrating as backing dancers.

There's a great idea in this play somewhere, but it is clearly a work very much in progress.

Don't Shoot the Meistersinger is at the Studio at New Wimbledon Theatre until 12 November

Photo Credit: New Wimbledon Theatre

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