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by Neil LaBute

 

How far would you go for love? What price would you be willing to pay? In this new variation on the 'Pygmalion' theme, American author Neil LaBute examines the borderline between life and art, and the nature of love. This gripping and entertaining drama peels back the skin of a love-affair between two students, revealing the raw meat and gristle of the relationship.

 

Neil LaBute is America's most prominent contemporary dramatist, and his plays have been translated into many languages.

 

Photos of 'The Shape of Things'

 

 

Extract from the script 'The Shape of Things'

Evelyn: My graduate advisor gave me this advice five months ago... “Strive to make art, but change the world:” Pretty wise words, I thought, at the time, and so, being a good little student, that's what I set out to do. As I looked around my world for something to change, I knew I'd been given a tall order. “Change the world.” So, I decided to do the next best thing, which was change someone's world. I mean, that's a start, right? With that in mind, I present to you this, my newest work. It is a human sculpture on which I've worked these past eighteen weeks, and of whom I'm very proud. The piece itself – him – is untitled since I think, I hope, that it will mean something different to each of you and, frankly, anyone who sees it. On our first official encounter after he asked me out, I coaxed him into eating his first vegetarian meal. Well, as vegetarian as a spinach-and-mushroom calzone can be... Anyway, he told me that for him it was a huge deal and it does mark the beginning of my systematic makeover, or “sculpting”, if you will, of my two very pliable materials of choice: the human flesh and the human will.

by William Shakespeare

 

Can Petruchio turn the wildcat Katherina into an obedient wife? This rattling comedy sets wild macho wit against wild female wilfulness – who will win the battle of the sexes, when an impoverished nobleman proposes to marry a rich woman renowned for her vicious tongue?

 

Shakespeare's comedy has been abridged so as to simplify the plot and reduce the play's length, without losing any of the fiery sparring of the larger-than-life characters, and the knockabout hilarity of the humour.

 

 

Photos of 'The Taming of the Shrew'

Season 22/23

Season 19/20

Formers productions

 

 

Extract from the script 'The Taming of the Shrew'

Grumio: “None shall have access unto Bianca
Till Katharina the curst have got a husband”.
Katharina the curst! A title for a maid of all titles the worst.
Petruchio: I'll undertake to woo curst Katharina,
Yea, and to marry her, if her dowry please.
I read she is an irksome brawling scold:
If that be all, well then, I hear no harm.
Why came I hither but to that intent?
Have I not in my time heard lions roar?
Have I not heard the sea puff'd up with winds
Rage like an angry boar chafed with sweat?
Have I not in a pitched battle heard
Loud 'larums, neighing steeds, and trumpets' clang?
And do they tell me of a woman's tongue,
That gives not half so great a blow to hear
As will a chestnut in a farmer's fire?

by William Shakespeare

 

A pair of twins, separated in a shipwreck... each believes the other dead.

Viola and Sebastian try to start a new life in Illyria – they meet local inhabitants, and soon both are involved in intrigues of love, jealousy and mistaken identity. Only when the twins are reunited is the story complete, and love finds a way to bring the right couples together.

For four centuries audiences have laughed at the love-obsessed Orsino, the drunken Sir Toby, the proud Olivia, the vain servant Malvolio and the foolish Sir Andrew. Now Shakespeare's most popular comedy has been abridged for school audiences – retaining the original poetry, and shortening the story so that a performance lasts about 80 minutes.

 

 

Photos of 'Twelfth Night'

 

 

Extract from the script 'Twelfth Night'

Viola: Ay, but I know -
Duke Orsino: What dost thou know?
Viola: Too well what love women to men may owe:
In faith, they are as true of heart as we.
My father had a daughter loved a man,
As it might be, perhaps, were I a woman,
I should your lordship.
Duke Orsino: And what's her history?
Viola: A blank, my lord. She never told her love,
But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud,
Feed on her damask cheek: she pined in thought,
And with a green and yellow melancholy
She sat like patience on a monument,
Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed?
We men may say more, swear more: but indeed
Our shows are more than will; for still we prove
Much in our vows, but little in our love.
Duke Orsino: But died thy sister of her love, my boy?
Viola: I am all the daughters of my father's house,
And all the brothers too: and yet I know not.
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