麻豆传媒

, written and directed by Knaive Theatre鈥檚 Tyrrell Jones, staged at the Bunker Theatre, London, to 27 October

CZECH author Karel Capek wrote War with the Newts in 1936 under the shadow of rising fascism. To him 鈥渢he world was looking unbelievably bad economically, and politically still worse鈥�. Bold, brutal, bitingly funny, his satirical sci-fi novel was a complex portrait of consumerism, nationalism, racism and techno-utopian hopes of a better world, all used to mask or excuse exploitation.

Tyrrell Jones鈥檚 reimagining is a technically accomplished, immersive show, as urgent and terrifying as it is entertaining. Jones projects Capek鈥檚 original themes onto a post-Brexit UK. Its focus is the crew of an oyster trawler off the coast of Scotland.

When the crew encounters an underwater species of intelligent newts capable of performing simple jobs in return for trinkets, they see opportunity. What begins as a chance to save their livelihoods soon grows into an enormously profitable and powerful global corporation breeding, selling and exploiting millions of 鈥渉elpful little creatures鈥�. But the corporate promise of progress towards a post-work paradise collapses and, amid unrest from displaced human workers, the newts rise up.

The show plays on our globalised, hyperconnected world, which displaces the consequences of our actions to other parts of the planet. Our plastic washes up on other beaches, our cheap consumer goods are built far away in unsafe factories, using minerals mined in conflict zones we will never see. As Capek鈥檚 original suggested, this is no oversight, but a key feature of consumerism. Any consumer utopia must shift the graft, suffering and pollution onto others that we enslave, dehumanise or exploit in the name of trade and development. It is a system designed to make the suffering invisible to us, or the sufferer inconsequential.

Because of its physicality, live performance can create an encounter that, even when it becomes uncomfortable, grabs and holds our attention. War with the Newts never lets its audience melt into the dark; we are here, in danger, and perhaps to blame.

The discomfort starts early. Entering through a smoky tunnel, audience members are assessed and their hands stamped. We become the pitiful survivors of an atrocity, travelling through a war zone in an oyster trawler to the last human outpost.

Capek鈥檚 novel mixed prose with other formats, such as newspaper clippings and faux-academic reports. Knaive Theatre also draws on a varied toolkit to build its future world, and illustrate the moral failure that capsized it.

Three shipboard AIs introduce us to cheery scenes of edited history. But as tech and story break down, other scenes slip through: a newt dissection, a call-in show in which presenters make convoluted logical leaps to deny newt intelligence and their capacity to suffer and love.

鈥淎ny consumer utopia must shift the graft, suffering and pollution onto others we enslave or dehumanise鈥�

A roster of virtual and physical characters, all performed with great skill by Nadi Kemp-Sayfi, Everal Walsh and Sam Redway, sketch a detailed world, both funny and threatening. The immersion and jarring changes in tone are supported by excellent lighting and Robert Bentall鈥檚 live sound mix, which evoke both the open spaces, and hard work of a crew on stormy seas and a claustrophobic siege as monsters tear through the trawler鈥檚 walls.

The swings between horror and humour can be dizzying. Redway鈥檚 Hugh Grant-like ambassador to the newts has the audience in hysterics with an etiquette error; minutes later, cruelties against the newts are listed calmly by Walsh鈥檚 impassive lawyer.

Though its metaphors range from sharp to obvious, as a whole, the play is faithful to the complexities of Capek鈥檚 novel, and its intricate links between racism, consumerism and techno-utopianism. Whatever strange reflection of our world the play shows us, we cannot turn away.

This article appeared in print under the headline 鈥淣ewtworld is our world鈥�