Brilliant performances and dazzling production design aside, Dave Johns’ unrelentingly bleak stage adaptation of I, Daniel Blake, Ken Loach’s Kafkaesque 2016 film about a good man living a British bureaucratic nightmare is the most depressing 90 minutes I’ve spent in a theater in a very long time.
That’s not to say that Daniel Blake’s story wasn’t worth telling on film eight years ago when the movie not only made headlines but attracted hundreds of thousands of UK moviegoers including the country’s lawmakers, some of whom praised its take-no-prisoners look at the horrors being inflicted on the country’s out-of-work citizens and others of whom deemed it “fictional.”
At the very least, I, Daniel Black The Movie had the potential to bring about changes in both the bureaucracy and the bureaucrats who made its title character’s life a living hell.
Such is not the case 5500 miles away at the 99-seat Fountain, whose audience members can do little more than leave the theater feeling sorry for a man unjustly denied welfare payments by a slew of red tape, and outraged at the Newcastle office drones who consistently ordered him to leave the premises, or else.
JD Cullum stars as the title character ( a role originated on film by actor/playwright Johns), a widowed 59-year-old woodworker caught in a governmental Catch 22 beyond his control.
Though Daniel’s doctor has deemed him unfit to return to work following a heart attack, the government, having failed to contact said physician, denies him the Employment and Support Allowance he is entitled to, demanding instead that Daniel file an online appeal, the poor man’s computer illiteracy be damned.
And things aren’t any better for unemployed single mom Katie (Philicia Saunders), who’s traveled north from London, her tween daughter Daisy (Makara Gamble) in tow, only to be told that arriving a half hour late for a employment service appointment means she too will be denied the government aid she deserves.
Indeed the only bit of brightness in Daniel’s life (or in I, Daniel Blake the play for that matter) is provided by China (Wesley Guimarães), a young Black neighbor who sells discounted designer “trainers” (British for sneakers or gym shoes) he has imported illegally from China.
Not that this smidgen of lightheartedness does much to alter the incessant bleakness that pervades I, Daniel Blake, a play that might mean more to American audiences if there were something they could “do” about it, or at the very least if an epilogue indicated that Loach’s film inspired reforms in the welfare system whose failures It exposes, if indeed it did.
And I can’t help questioning the wisdom of programming so dispiriting a play at a time when the upcoming elections already have us stressed to the max.
That’s not to say that Simon Levy’s direction isn’t stunning or that the performances he has elicited from a magnificent Cullum and a standout supporting cast (completed by Janet Greaves and Adam Segaller as a pair of heartless English bureaucrats and a handful of slightly more sympathetic Brits) aren’t as good as it gets.
They are, as is a spectacular production design that allows scene changes to take place as swiftly as they would on film, credit shared by scenic designer Joel Daavid and video designer Nicholas Santiago, who have combined their considerable talents to striking effect.
Alison Brummer’s lighting, Jenine MacDonald’s props, Michael Mullen’s costumes, and Cricket S. Myers’ sound design are equally world class.
Allison Bibicoff is movement and intimacy director. Carla Meyer is dialect coach and Victoria Hanlin is assistant dialect coach. Anna Kupershmidt is production stage manager. Scott Tuomey is technical director. Lucy Pollak is publicist.
The Fountain Theatre’s most recent smash, Fatherland, worked (and continues to work off-Broadway) because even with the devastating events of January 6, 2021 at its core, Stephen Sachs’ play offers hope in the person of its heroic co-protagonist, a young man willing to risk estrangement from his family for putting his country and democracy first, and audiences left the theater feeling energized and even optimistic about the possibilities that lay ahead.
Such is sadly not the case with I, Daniel Blake, a play so bereft of hope, it left me feeling nothing but sorry for the hell poor Daniel was put through and powerless to do anything about the faraway government agencies that put him through it.
The Fountain Theatre, 5060 Fountain Ave., Los Angeles.
www.FountainTheatre.com
–Steven Stanley
October 13, 2024
Photos: Cooper Bates
Tags: Dave Johns, Fountain Theatre, Ken Loach, Los Angeles Theater Review