Founder rate ends 9th September.

We’re rebuilding theartsdesk to secure the future of real arts journalism. Be part of it by subscribing: if you do it now, the founders’ rate of just £40 yearly is yours FOR LIFE!

SUBSCRIBE NOW 

Underground Railroad Game, Soho Theatre review - scratching the American wound

A furious, darkly comic riff on race, this frenetic two-hander dazzles

share this article

A game unlike most... Jennifer Kidwell and Scott R Sheppard
Images: Aly Wight

Underground Railroad Game is scabrous theatre – in every sense. To start with, Jennifer Kidwell and Scott R Sheppard’s two-hander is as down and dirty as anything you’ll find on the London stage at the moment, with one sex scene that’s belly laugh-out-loud funny, another which creates a silence of unease that chills the house.

But it’s scabrous in the original sense, too, about a wound that doesn’t heal, the scab that has formed over it only precarious protection against the original hurt. That hurt, of course, is slavery, the legacy of which simply has not gone away for America, even a century and a half after the conflict that nominally brought it to an end.

It takes us to some places we really don’t want to go Over the course of its frenetic 75-minute action, Underground Railroad Game announces itself variously as “living history” and an “educational Civil War”. Its title comes from the network set up by sympathising abolitionists who organised transportation, from one safe house to the next, for slaves escaping from the South intent on making their way to Canada. That context provides the piece’s first scene, with Kidwell finding arranged respite on her journey in Sheppard’s barn, before he escorts her onwards, northwards, and actually across the Mason-Dixon line, the border between Confederate Maryland and Union Pennsylvania which in those days actually meant little: recapture and return was always a risk.

It’s a stylised scene, with a heightened simplicity that is abruptly cut into when the lights come up, revealing that it’s all taking place in the classroom of Hanover Middle School. And what’s going on is anything but simple: the two players are now Teacher Caroline and Teacher Stuart, who are preparing this elaborate "game" for their class – that’s us, the audience – to bring the Civil War back to life. There’s a nifty surprise that divides us into soldiers of the Union army, the Blues, and the Confederacy, the Grays, before the premise of the game is explained.  Underground Railroad GameIt’s as darkly absurd as you could imagine: the Unionists have to move black slave dolls around the school’s safe-house boxes, while the Confederates are out to capture the fugitives. Before your mind boggles at this instance of history repeating itself as farce, bear in mind that Sheppard really did play such a school game when he was a kid in Pennsylvania. There’s even a final count-off that offers that ultimate revisionist reward, reaffirming or rewriting history.

It’s very funny and very dark, played with enormous aplomb by its two principals, who extract every possible nuance of agility from their material. From then on Underground Railroad Game isn’t really theatre at all, rather a series of riffs, vignettes that play around its central theme, as well as developing the relationship between Caroline and Stuart in ways that reflect it. As the couple starts dating – a beautifully nimble piece of stage work in itself – their characters come to the fore, revealing her sassy confidence, his apologetic liberal gormlessness.    

Stuart certainly gets to explore his fantasies. No surprise that sexuality is key among them, never more so than in the scene where She becomes a huge Mammy figure and He disappears under her ballooning skirts, her voice booming out in a parodic pleasuring of sex and song. Then the scene cuts effortlessly from such high theatricality to naturalism, as the lengths of dress segue into the tent in which the couple have been camping. A stream of such transformations follow, the mood veering between hilarity and extreme discomfort. You certainly won’t forget the final scene, in which a whole new kind of cruelty is played out, complete with nakedness that’s as prominent as, of course, the “n” word is throughout.

It’s hard to guess quite what Taibi Magar’s role as director amounts to when these two players carry the play off with such complete conviction, except to say there isn’t a single loose thread visible. Kidwell and Sheppard devised the piece for Philadelphia-based theatre company Lightning Rod Special and premiered it in New York in 2016, so their fluency in the work is total (among the accolades it has earned is a ranking on The New York Times’s “Top 25 Best American Plays in 25 Years” accorded earlier this year). Regardless of exactly who was involved in bringing it together – not to mention, how: It's so much more than any standard text – it's an experience that takes us to places we really don’t want to go, but with such livid theatrical brio that turning back is never an option. Underground Railroad Game has to be seen to be believed – and even then you won’t...

It’s very funny and very dark, played with enormous aplomb by its two principals, who extract every possible nuance of agility from their material

rating

4

share this article

Help secure the future of arts journalism

In this era of algorithmic recommendation, opaquely sponsored content and AI slop, theartsdesk’s mission to preserve real journalistic and critical values has never been more important.

If you like what you see here, please join us 
in this mission.

Subscribing to the site will help us in our coming 
redesign and expansion.


If you do this before the 9th September this will be at our guaranteed founder’s rate: 
your subs will never increase again.

Subscribe now for £5 per month. 
or yearly for just £40.

Or if you simply want to support us with a one-off donation, you can do so here.

more theatre

Emily White’s new play is important, but too often tells where it could show
New play about love and loneliness in London has terrific gender and genre fluidity
Not everything works but, with this unbreakable musical, it doesn't need to
Simon Stone's latest reversioning of a classic is a muddled misfire
Lots of innovative ideas, but we need to hear the line readings clearly
Eurovision star Sam Ryder is made for the title role, while Drew McOnie’s choreography makes us feel the delirium
Chloë Moss’s new drama is a nerve-fraying example of telephonic tension
Carrie Cracknell’s splendid revival of Stoppard’s masterwork transfers with its magic intact
Transatlantic tensions are diffused through alcohol, sex, and the etiquette of hot dogs