The Peculiar and Unexpected World of Secret Theatre

A hipster little theatre in Kilburn. A cast of young actors. An improvised piece on the meaning of life. As far as hints go, the Secret Theatre production of A Series of Increasingly Impossible Acts hadn’t got me too fired up. And yet, despite my initial reticence, I was completely blown away by what proved to be a brave, hilarious and heart wrenching show.

The Secret Theatre formed a few years back when the Lyric Theatre in Hammersmith was undergoing huge building works. In order to continue putting on shows ten young actors joined up to create unusual shows, in which the audience would turn up not knowing what would be performed or where it would be performed within the building site. It turned out to be a huge success and the company has carried on producing shows in much the same way, despite the fact that they know have a fully-constructed theatre.

Confusingly, London has another Secret Theatre company (Secret Theatre London) which veils its shows in mysteries and forbids reviews from spilling the beans. Prepared for total secrecy, I was surprised to see that a quick Google of A Series of Increasingly Impossible Acts returned reviews openly sharing the main outline was being referred to openly: a cast member gets chosen by the audience to undertake difficult, unpleasant or impossible tasks on stage.

What’s the point of a secret if everyone knows it already? Perhaps a better name would be the Unexpected theatre — it wasn’t the show’s format which was a surprise, but the emotional charge it carried.

With moments of comedy punctuating an otherwise very moving and touching show

On the night I went, Leo Bill’s name was drawn out of the hat, and he proceeded to be subjected to a farcical fitness circuit: bending iron bars, licking his elbow, eating lemons. This lap was repeated throughput the show, a symbol of the change the actor was undergoing under our eyes. He was assaulted, offended, hurt, helped, teased, embarrassed and kissed by the rest of the cast, as the performance turned into a journey of discovery of the actor. The journey was subtle and natural, with moments of comedy punctuating an otherwise very moving and touching show. By the end of it I really felt as if I knew Leo very intimately – his hopes and his humour, but mainly his fears, insecurities and wounds, which he had laid bare in front of the audience.

Yes, of course I know that the show was semi-rehearsed, and that the spontaneity stemmed from the actors’ talent rather than from them totally opening up on stage, but the effect it had was nevertheless truly poignant. The real physical duress the actor undergoes strengthens the emotional upheaval you seem them go through – the dialogue may well be contrived, but you can’t fake the acidity of a raw lemon, the cold of an ice bucket or sweaty, shaky muscles after a wrestling match.

Somehow, through all the silliness, the Secret Theatre has managed to do what all theatre strives to do – they struck on something true. Something that resonates at some deep level, by showing you that this is life. This chaotic, difficult, loving, scary, pointless and beautiful thing is life.

The Secret Theatre will perform all of their 6 shows between the 12th of February and the 1st of March at the Lyric in Hammersmith, as a farewell before the company parts. Tickets are £15 and I really urge you to get yourselves some!