Amy Matthews
posted 10 May 2005

For an evening of supposedly Belgian physical theatre, National Alien Office struck me as neither particularly Belgian, nor excessively physical. The notion of 'Belgian-ness' is not one of my own projection: the programme assures us of its importance by stating the varying degrees of Belgian-ness of the actors, writers and crew: 'Belgian', 'Belgian and French', 'English mother and Belgian father' and so on.

Odd then, translation not withstanding, that the piece itself should lack that consummate Belgian-ness of which the theatre company seem so proud. The issues addressed could apply to any generic Western country, and it is further examples of this generic stereotyping which let the play down so badly throughout.

Two characters provide the substance of the piece, an immigration officer and an immigrant, each telling his own side of the same story - a failed immigration application - in a monologue. The basic dramatic and moral agendas are obvious from the beginning, the 'alien' character (billed in the programme as 'Other', just in case we hadn't grasped the political or psychoanalytical subtleties) leading us by the nose to the ideas of intolerance, prejudice, and the Establishment versus the Outsider.

The characters are solid and strong, and yet lack depth or development. We see the struggle in the officer's position between the necessary arrogance of bureaucracy and the weakness of innate human empathy. His struggle only serves to make him both odious and pitiable, without invoking any desire in the audience to engage with his conflict. The tendency to rely on stereotypes and easy moral and social truisms is particularly damning in the Other, who at times is so one-dimensional he could be in a Lilt advert; easy-going and offering generic pseudo-tribal wisdom, smiling, advocating peace and friendship, praising the Lord, you almost expect him to launch into 'No Woman, No Cry' and offer you a puff of something vaguely illegal just to complete the cultural stereotype. In spite of his harrowing life story, he never creates sufficient sympathy for his character either - one is left with the empty feeling of simply not giving a toss about either of the key characters.

Apart from enforcing the over-simplistic characterisation of the Other with an approximation of a reggae-influenced beat, the role of the music in National Alien Office, and indeed the musicians, is generally more interesting and complex. The two instrumentalists (accordion and cello) interact with the theatrical space fully, as well as the actors, and vary in their role, moving from the subjectivity of the main characters through dispassionate accompanying, to representations of other, un-acted characters. But with this increased complexity of purpose comes a disappointing confusion of expression - it is never clear what the music really says about alienation and 'otherness' as cohesive concepts. Considering music's vast power to include by its adherence to a tradition, or to exclude by invoking otherness with coded musical language and style, it is sad how little of this potential is realised in the play.

The physicality of the piece also never really takes off, despite Michael Brown's boiler-suit-clad exertions as the immigration officer. It seems to be a visually impressive addition to the speech rather than an umbilically cohesive factor. The set, however, consisting entirely of cage-like wire filing systems, provides interesting inferences of ceaseless administration, captivity, constriction and oppressive structure, though its freedom of physical movement is at odds with its symbolic purpose, as it allows the actors to breathe freely, moving it around to fit their needs.

Sadly, the most striking thing about National Alien Office is its lack of originality; what it says is important, but not the way it says it. We already know the simplistic ideals of a perfect immigration policy and the paradoxically arbitrary capitalist reality, and the play does nothing to deepen our appreciation of either side.

Till 22 May 2005