One of my favourite paradoxes in artistic evaluation is the concept of journey versus the destination. Quickly grasping the intended phase of a performance is often key to getting the most out of it. The pace at which Home of the Wriggler set off signalled seatbelts on and for everyone to settle down for one hectic ride. This ultimately led to a journey devoid of chronological substance as we flittered from the future to a past of varying proportions, mainly steeped in 80s/90s nostalgia, but not averse to once stepping back to 1957, with its associated local and worldwide commentary.
In essence, Home of the Wriggler (the title had its relevance referenced in the closing stages) is a rambling sortie into the lives of many, many characters entwined within the fabric of Birmingham's iconic Longbridge car plant, and its ultimate demise in 2005. From a cast of four, we were introduced to literally tens, twenties or even more names, some recurring at different stages of their life without any intention to provide the ultimate link.
The major elements of this production (resurrected by its founders the Birmingham based theatre company Stan's Cafe and first staged in 2006) were the perpetual self generated contrasting light from the characters continually applying pedal power and other forms of manual motion. All sparking an intense form of nostalgia, mainly of a localised nature.
It largely helped that this evening's audience in The Door performing space of Birmingham's Rep theatre likely had little difficulty tapping into the nuances and references. Outside the locality, the jury may have been out on the effectiveness of the script, but good art can transcend literal relevance, especially when applied in a sense of varied creativity.
Following this 100 mile per hour, word laden, seventy-five minute production presented the odd challenge until you worked out that applying your own mental interludes alongside a couple of in-built respites re-energised the audience experience. Indeed cottoning on to the notion of the journey meant short concentration lapses didn't rub the shine off any appeal.
It wouldn't be theatre without the odd twist, and our well-worked on-stage quartet delivered a neat one as the lights finally went down or up. At this point, the impact of light, energy and authentic real life appeal had collided into a summation of the production nailing the intent. Birmingham lost a major way of life in 2005, but re-invention keeps things just above the water line, even with the presentation of new challenges.
Perhaps the biggest challenge to the car industry is the future, maybe the overriding subliminal message of the show. Home of the Wriggler, and the team from Stan's Cafe, left a successful mark of linking the past, present and future in one intense wheel turning journey. A Brummie one, mind you.