Review: SPEAKERS' CORNER: THE PUBLIC SHAMING OF RUFUS LOVE, The Hope Theatre

A chance encounter at Speakers' Corner in Hyde Park unravels into a meandering meditation on free speech and the morality mob of mob rule. Speakers' Corner: The Public Shaming of Rufus Love has an admirable aim, but this one-man show, written and performed by Love, is easily distracted. He is a dog chasing cars in all directions. By the end we are back where we started.

Heavily reminiscent of the sorts of people you find in the smoking area of a club during Freshers' Week, Love plays a semi-ironic version of himself. Or at least he seems to. He floats around the space with shabby Islington chic, warm hearted and well intentioned as he rambles fuelled by late night nicotine and overpriced lager.

He explores his curiosity with Speakers' Corner documenting deftly each crank and weirdo with a caricatured impression. To him it's a real-world Twittersphere where debate is democracy manifest, even though the ugly side of it rears its ugly head. He confronts one of the cranks deploying his everyman blokeish charm and finds himself riding the tide of public opinion. But the tide changes, soon he is at the end of a pointing finger. His initial optimism turns sour, and soon a crowd braying for blood is chanting his name.

Love touches on some heavy themes but shies away from developing them. Instead his focus takes a wrong turn inward and all momentum is lost; an elongated section sees Rufus Love, (the real or fictional one - who knows?) on trial. His crime: I'm honestly not sure. Not champagne, but craft beer Socialism.

There is an odd tendency for early career writers to put themselves at the forefront of their writing, using the stage as a mirror and a magnifying glass for self-reflection. Suffice to say not many people are interesting enough to get away with it. The sequence is a self-flagellating privilege check designed seemingly for him to exorcise his guilt at being a Dulwich born and bred white Anglo-Saxon Protestant.

It may be cathartic for him, but it is dull for the audience who showed up expecting to see a play, not to take part in a group therapy/exoneration session. The wider questions about freedom of speech and mob violence, ripe material for onstage exploration, are left to linger undeveloped. The play has a beating heart, but we don't see enough of it.

One wonders if the whole thing is a parody poking fun at the frivolous efforts that artists and institutions go to cleanse themselves in the public light. Maybe there is no such thing as "Rufus Love" and it is all a brilliant postmodern rouse. In any case, the final product feels more like a mood board of interesting albeit unconnected ideas.

There is certainly potential here. Love is a charismatic performer with a strong sense of theatricality. With refinement this could pack a serious punch.

Speakers' Corner: The Public Shaming of Rufus Love plays at The Hope Theatre until 27 May

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