The Road to Nirvana has oh so many joys


ROAD TO NIRVANA
King's Head

THE simple assumption of Arthur Kopit’s Road to Nirvana is that everybody has a price.
And if the few empty seats in the King’s Head were anything to go by, this applies to the people of Islington.
But these tickets are worth every penny – just think what you are getting. Road to Nirvana, a bizarre indictment of the moral morass of Hollywood, is an absolute riot.
Shaun Williamson (Barry from Eastenders) – everyone loves Barry – and Marem Hernandez of Tomb Raider and Wonderbra advert notoriety, put in memorable performances and went some way to restoring my faith in celebrity casts.
They were upstaged at times by two not so well-known, but at times more accomplished, actors Wendy Morgan and the Alan Bennett look-a-like Ian Porter. Four classy performances complemented with a cracking script and a great big warning sign promising nudity and foul language hanging over the door – what more could you want?
The Broadway hit has attracted the likes of Gary Sinise, Julianne Moore, Sigourney Weaver and Danny Devito from the silver screen.
Most people will know Williamson as the loveable buffoon in Eastenders. It will come as quite a shock to Barry fans to see him play Al, a bossy US director stomping about the stage in his magnificent pink suit.
He manipulates the wretched Jerry (Ian Porter), who has fallen on hard times and craves life back in the fast lane. Aided by his sun-baked wife Lou (Wendy Morgan), Al puts Jerry through a series of humiliating tests to prove his loyalty, including wrist slitting, spooning nun’s excrement and sacrificing his testicles.
After the interval, my Williamson idolatry subsided as the jaw-dropping Hernandez took centre-stage as the rock goddess Nirvana. A multi-billion pound asset, she has offered Al the “options” to her ludicrous life story. Her account is as fictional as it is lucrative. On the road to Nirvana, fact plays second fiddle to fiction and entertainment is all.
There are grand themes circling the action that will strike a chord with our 21st century Big Brother generation. But the night’s strength is in the sharp one-liners and the enigma that is Al, whose absurdity left me giggling all the way home.
Until May 28
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