An Underground War

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"Stovepipe" at the West 12 Shopping Centre

While shoppers are happily buying their baked beans and Marmite in Morrisons these days, downstairs, there is a war going on. The cavernous basement of the West 12 shopping centre is currently playing host to Stovepipe, an interactive theatrical production on the conflict in Iraq, where the audience move from scene to scene throughout the 90 minute performance, making their way from a conference hall, to Baghdad's dangerous airport road, to a luxury hotel in Jordan, then an office and finally end up singing hymns in a Welsh church.

The action begins at the Project Rebuild Iraq conference where military equipment and glossy posters are on display and we, the audience members, are greeted as delegates, supposedly looking to invest in the country. The main speaker at the conference is Andre (Christian Bradley), the head of a private security firm who tries to sell us the services of his security men.

One of the main themes of Stovepipe, written by Adam Brace, is that everybody is making money out of this war, from the Saudi businessman at the reconstruction conference, to the Russian prostitute and American journalist in Amman, to the security contractors, or mercenaries. But although the security men may earn well, the cost to their personal lives is immeasurably high.

On the notoriously dangerous road to Baghdad's airport, ex-British Army soldier Grif is killed in an ambush. His friends Alan (Shaun Dooley) and Eddy (Niall MacGregor) are both deeply traumatised by the experience and never really recover psychologically. Eddy goes awol and only reappears at the very end, when, bubbling over with anger and grief, he threatens to kill his boss for having provided the men with the sub-standard equipment that led to his friend's death.

Alan, meanwhile, is permanently on-edge and starts to fall apart when he is recruited as a conference salesman. As if to represent his fragile mental state, there is suddenly a confusion of voices coming from all directions, forcing the audience to look around and try and figure out who or what they are supposed to be listening to.

The audience are sometimes spectators, sometimes extras in the production. We are led from scene to scene, politely shuffled out of the room when we are cast as conference delegates, then shouted at to “f*** off” by drunken squaddies when we are cast as extras in a bar scene. In the final scene, the audience become the congregation in a Welsh church and, with hymn sheets in front of us, we join in to sing tribute to the dead Grif.

The pace of Stovepipe is breathlessly fast with scene changes every few minutes and five actors playing a multitude of roles between them. Eleanor Matsuura is the star of the show, playing the American journalist, the Russian prostitute and, best of all, the cold-hearted and controlling businesswoman Carolyn. But with all the different costumes, faces, accents as well as flashbacks, it can sometimes be difficult to keep up with who's who and whether we are meant to be in Amman or back in Baghdad.

The juxtaposition of comedy and tragedy are ever-present, as the intense emotions caused by war are suppressed and turned on their heads. The Iraqi interpreter Sa'ad (Sargon Yelda) tells us that his cousin worked as an interpreter for the British Army before being killed in a gruesome beheading. Moments later, he is talking about Mr Bean, ignoring all attempts to get him to continue with the story about his ill-fated relative.

Then, in a Baghdad street, we witness an Iraqi man, thought to be a suicide bomber, being shot dead. When the security guards unzip his jacket to reveal the 'explosives', they find nothing more than a few cans of Coke and Pepsi. But their remorse is short lived; after a few moments of guilt, they are opening up the cans of drink and taking the “taste test” between the different brands of cola. The men have become desensitised, their normal human emotions switched off.

Stovepipe is skilfully constructed, thought-provoking, intense and exhausting. This is no opportunity to sit back, relax in your seat and be entertained; you are engaged throughout and when it's all over, you almost feel as though you have just experienced some of the emotions that a war situation might take you through.

So next time you are out shopping in the West 12 centre, spare a thought for what might be going on beneath your feet. Or perhaps pop down and experience it yourself.

Stovepipe runs until 26th April.

Yasmine Estaphanos

23 March 2009