Fury

Published July 11, 2016

What’s it all about?

The single young mother you might pass on the high street, grappling with the very circumstances that define her while those who could lend their support would much rather judge.

Meet Sam: volatile, poor, frequently offensive, but rarely intending to be. Abandoned by her children’s father and scrambling to put food on the table, Sam craves freedom but is trapped by terror and the weight of her responsibilities. And when her neighbour, Tom, begins to make unwelcome advances on her, the situation threatens to spiral beyond her control.

Wasting not a single minute, Fury is fast – and by goodness is it furious – as the central Medea-esque figure is pushed to the brink in tragic fashion. 

Who’s in it?

Alex Austin’s twisted Tom wanders around the stage with an initial gangly, warm awkwardness, before twisting the knife callously, always lurking in the shadows of Sam’s fears. His is a portrayal to make you think twice about the stranger next door.

Sarah Ridgeway’s is a tour-de-force performance as beaten down Sam, always tragically out of her depth and one step behind the curve, while the manipulative Chorus of Naana Agyei-Ampadu, Daniel Kendrick and Anita-Joy Uwajeh grimly oversee her inexorable fate.  

What should I look out for?

Inventive minimalist staging, juxtaposed with a relentless musical assault featuring the likes of Major Lazer, Bat for Lashes and La Roux.

Set beneath dancefloor lights and playing out to a blazing bass-fuelled beat, the overall result is loud, dynamic and searing, emphatically shaking the audience out of any preconceptions they might have about Sam’s situation – and allowing them to bear the brunt of her pain.

In a nutshell?

Fury is an engrossing, desperate cry for help that packs a hefty bass-bolstered punch. 

What’s being said on Twitter?

Will I like it?

While Fury offers a few crumbs of dark comedy for comfort, make no bones about it: at its core lies a sharp, important voice, hitting uncomfortably close to home with its exploration of what actually lies beyond the ‘benefits Britain’ stereotype.

If you can steel yourself to listen to the sound of desolation, and if you like your theatre evocative, ruthless and absorbing, a knockout play lies in store. 

Fury plays at the Soho Theatre until 30 July. You can book tickets through the venue’s website.