Review by Raphael Kohn
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Drop what you’re doing and buy tickets to this immediately. I rarely express such effusively positive sentiments in my reviews - I try to be measured in my criticism and objective as much as I can - but when something like the RSC’s Kyoto comes along, frankly, there’s no holding in my amazement. This is the very best theatre can be, two acts of utterly mesmerising, thrilling, and enthralling performance. I’d see it again a million times if I could - you’d be foolish to miss it if you’re able to avoid that situation.
While its title may not yield much to its contents, the tremendous transformation of the Swan’s auditorium (credit to set designer Miriam Buether for her simply stunning design) sets you right up. We’re at an international conference, audience seated around the round table. It’s as if we’re living real moments, and not just observing. We are the delegates (with lanyards provided on entry), and as such, we are complicit in what happens.
Our complicity is central to the action. We follow Don Pearlman, a villain protagonist (I wanted to call him an anti-hero but as the plot develops, it becomes clearer and clearer that there’s absolutely nothing heroic about him). A smart and efficient lawyer, he becomes a puppet for lobbying oil corporations seeking to influence international politics to prevent climate accords and UN resolutions from being passed to limit their actions (and profits).
We follow Pearlman from conference to conference, him narrating it from on top of the table in a very Wolf of Wall Street way. It often feels like that film, with less sex and drugs, and (slightly less) swearing. But where it differs is you leave Kyoto fascinated and with an important and timely message. Pearlman may be a hateable climate change denier, who establishes a so-called ‘Climate Council’, but he’s also a charismatic, engaging manipulator.
American actor Stephen Kunken brings Pearlman to life, stalking around the stage (and audience) like the puppet-master he is. Onstage for all of the first half (and most of the second), he haunts us like a ghost, always aware, always watching. And yet, Kunken’s raw charisma is so electric that it’s almost as if his actions can be supported. They can’t, of course – he’s lobbying for oil companies after all. Snatching his ‘wins’ like a thief, he’s the perfect political villain.
He may be our lead star but it’s an ensemble piece really, with the ensemble dotted around the audience almost from the get-go. It’s impossible to find a single fault here – Jude Akuwudike is particularly absorbing in his role as the Tanzanian delegate, while Nancy Crane’s delegate from the USA is an amusing and deliberately unlikeable as she loses her country’s superpower status over the negotiations. Meanwhile, there’s a rather terrific turn coming from Andrea Gatchalian, whose Kiribatian delegate’s power vastly outshines its country’s population size.
But they’ve all got lots to work with. Writers Joe Murphy and Joe Robertson (known for their smash-hit The Jungle in the West End and Off-Broadway) sit the tone on the knife edge between political thriller and history play. Or maybe, it’s both at once, which it really should be. But it’s also deeply funny, with The Thick of It-esque interjections and pacy, sweary dialogue, brought to life stylishly by directors Stephen Daldry and Justin Martin (the pair who brought you Stranger Things: The First Shadow). The pace builds and builds and builds… and just about stays there in this gripping and monumental production.
There’s a sequence in the first act I’d re-live a million times if I could. Snapping from conference to conference at breakneck speed, Pearlman travels the globe from Berlin to Geneva and beyond, each time with little change or agreement between the participating nations around the table. The sound builds and builds, and the dialogue speeds up and speeds up constantly. It’s theatrical euphoria.
And there’s a huge risk being taken too. While the discourse rages about video (especially live feeds) in theatre, video designer Akhila Krishnan takes the challenge and provides a constant illustration at the back of the Swan’s thrust on a semi-transparent screen. Even those who decry the use of video in theatre will find themselves mesmerised – a sea of animations to display (and change) each iteration of climate accords, and set us clearly in each location – brings certainty and style. There’s a little bit of live video too, but it’s used intelligently and sparingly.
Meanwhile, the Swan is bathed in spectacular lighting (thanks to Aideen Malone), the harsh brightness of the conference floor contrasted with the dark of smaller rooms and intimate spaces, and the threat of the oil lobby darkly backlit. New features dot around the Swan’s new set, with screens implanted onto the front of the circle and LED strips climbing each wooden support beam. It’s as if the space itself, normally a fairly conventional thrust theatre, is being overtaken by something insidious. Perhaps that’s mirroring the oil lobby as it insidiously influences decisions. It’s quite perfect design, to be frank.
It's a lesson for us all in international diplomacy and geopolitics. Even if that’s not your thing. Because this vitally important theatre that truly gets to the heart of why such negotiations never work – and why the Kyoto COP3 conference did. It’s a true story, but the ending feels so surprising, so monumental, that you really wish that it was repeatable. Likewise, the omnipresent threat of the oil lobby, and the way it tries to greenwash itself (credit to writers Murphy and Robertson for some brilliant barbs at the RSC itself who was partnered with BP until 2019) reminds us just who really controls these things.
This may be a play about history (albeit recent history), but witnessing Kyoto feels historic in event. This is the birth of a sensational new play, home-grown in the UK in Stratford-Upon-Avon. So take the next train there (and offset the carbon cost of doing so). Because in these deeply political times where our climate is crumbling around us and our politicians fail to do anything at all, we don’t just want to have this play on our stages. We need to have it.
Kyoto plays at the RSC until 13th July 2024. Tickets from https://www.rsc.org.uk/kyoto/
Photos by Manuel Harlan