Review: Radiant Vermin (Tron Theatre)

Soft furnishings and social commentary

How far would you go for some parquet flooring and a smeg fridge? In Philip Ridley’s dark comedy Radiant Vermin that question is taken to its extreme. Couple Jill (Dani Heron) and Ollie (Martin Quinn) are offered their dream home by a shady government programme. Not only is it free, but with the right vision, it will magically transform any room to look like something from the glossy pages of Ideal Home. All it asks is for a small human sacrifice to help it on its way.

Photo Credit: Mihaela Bodlovic

The metaphor is glaring but not heavy-handed. Modern life is built on keeping the human cost of consumerism out of sight – Ridley’s play makes that exchange more explicit and personal. It gives us plenty to think about without compromising on its dark fun. The “magic” of this universe is never explained but we do get some basic rules: where the body “sparkles” is where the room will be transformed, but you only have 66.6 seconds after death before that process begins. The idea is so wild that one doesn’t expect to see it staged at this level, and sure enough, its first outing in London looks like a much more low-tech affair. In this production the script and the comic performances are put front and centre, but with a design that pops off the stage. The “dream house” set, designed by Kenny Miller, is a neon outline of a house covering the entire stage, making it look boxy and bare to let our imagination fill in the blanks. There are no props to speak of. Instead, director Johnny McKnight puts his ear for comic timing and his trust in Heron and Quinn to work. They start with the personalities of any old bland, pleasant, middle-class couple trying to make a good impression and end as remorseless killers with bullet-proof cognitive dissonance. They are, after all, good people.

The first half draws you into that grim, giddy rhythm where you can predict what will happen next and cannot wait to see it unfold. After their first kill, they are traumatised – but only the kitchen has been renovated. What are they to do? But as the second half begins the metaphor and the story reach a tipping point. The house has been completely renovated but the plot demands that the horrors continue, so now the couple become fixated on enjoying a fresh set of renovations every fortnight. This narrative escalation is to be expected, but it is hard to believe that the characters would carry on just for a fresh lick of paint. The performance reaches its climax with “the garden party from hell”, where Heron and Quinn switch between different neighbours who are each more boring and snobbish than the last. It is hilariously executed, with Heron and Quinn making their synchronised character switches seem effortless, but it does little for the main plot other than to demonstrate that the nicer the home, the worse the neighbours. But if this is the worst scene in the play, then all it proves is that even when unsuccessful Radian Vermin is still highly entertaining. It is pointed, funny, and entirely contemporary. Most Millennials and Gen Z will never own a home and they spend their days overconsuming and feeling guilty about it – this is the dark comedy they want. Four stars.

Radiant Vermin will play at Tron Theatre until the 13th of July