Nikki Schreiber / fanSHEN, Cheese | Photo: Conrad Blakemore

Nikki Schreiber / fanSHEN: Cheese

Nikki Schreiber / fanSHEN, Cheese | Photo: Conrad Blakemore

Cheese is a rare thing in the theatrical world: a play that genuinely keeps you guessing, amuses throughout, and has an important message burning through its heart. Debut playwright Nikki Schreiber catapults us into a bizarre world where Joe and Freya live in an Emmental house and everyone expects the cheese to be forever plentiful… It’s an allegorical tale that Edward Albee would be proud of – one that unabashedly explores what is important to humans, capitalist society’s grip on us all, and the banking crash, as well as issuing a call to arms to reconsider how much we’ve all played a part in the current mess our economy and ecology has found itself in. Quite a feat!

fanSHEN’s co-directors Dan Barnard and Rachel Briscoe have set the piece in an anonymous office building on Oxford Street, one of the world’s best known consumer destinations. We’re in the stuffy office of LMC – the London Mortgage Company, which has recently folded. We’re told the power may go out, but they’ll get it back on if so. In fact, the electricity in the space is all powered by cycling in a local gym. It’s a fantastically live way to make an impact and fanSHEN’s risk pays off when the power does cut out. Whilst the cast, in complete darkness, hilariously try to cover up the problem, the conceit perfectly echoes the characters sudden lack of cheese that they’d taken for granted.

The ‘play’ itself is performed by three of LMC’s employees, who have put together a little ‘skit’ played out in front of flimsy divider screens. Jon Foster, Rachel Donovan and Jamie Zubairi have a ball subtly playing up the amateur- theatrical nature of the frame. The team gently lulls us into a false sense of knowing what’s going to happen. Suddenly, as Joe creeps out of his safe Emmental in search of more cheese, the dividers part and another world opens up. Desk lamps hang in space, buzzing and flickering dangerously. Joe is catapulted into a series of situations where he finds himself making some hasty decisions and quietly going along with what’s presented by a series of morally dubious characters, expertly played by Donovan.

It would spoil the surprises to go into details, but Barnard and Briscoe have created a triumphantly theatrical gem. Joshua Pharo’s lighting design is an exemplary use of domestic lights, and the cast uniformly impress as they power towards a dynamic climax. Schreiber’s text could do with a slight edit and is in danger of becoming preachy on occasion, but overall Cheese is a delight from start to finish.