I knew little about what to expect at the Downing Festival of New Writing, yet something about this concept intrigued me. A chance, as the introduction on Thursday evening explained, for an audience to be implicated in the creative process, not only witnesses, but a part of the first performance of these new works of theatre. Entering the lobby of the Howard Theatre, the atmosphere was full of expected excitement and a welcome friendliness. It was clear that many of the audience were here in support of others, or also like myself, intrigued by the prospect of something new.

“Many of the audience were here in support of others, or also like myself, intrigued by the prospect of something new”

The first play of the evening, Anatomy of a Misguided Dragon Slayer by Jonathon Wilson, began with the ‘Goblin’ (Harin Wijayathunga), running on stage with plastic vines hanging from his arms and a full-body coating of green paint. In the later Q and A session between theatre industry professionals and the student writers, someone pointed out that the costuming gave the impression of a Year Six school play mixed with a pantomime in a very intentional way, and certainly the deliberately chaotic costuming and stock style characters reflected this. There was a knight who recited bad poetry, a squire who confessed he wanted to die before banging his head against the side of the stage, a peasant turned dragon turned wizard. Audience laughter grew with every unexpected twist, and eventually turned towards the apprehensive as more was revealed. Wilson’s play was a refreshing beginning, demonstrating a refusal to take itself too seriously, yet dealing with the issues it touched upon with an attentive and careful humour.

“The costuming gave the impression of a Year Six school play mixed with a pantomime in a very intentional way”

This was followed by Miles Hitchens’ Dog’s Case, a satire which detailed the trial of a dog (brilliantly embodied by Daphne Stavrides) in a medieval French (human) court. It struck modern parallels with debates surrounding the extent animals can be considered responsible for their own actions, leaning into their occasional absurdities. The play had a drastically different feel from that which came before, but did not feel out of place. Miles Hitchens’ writing was clever, especially when Stavrides as the accused Charlotte would pause her barking to address the audience in language only we could understand.

“The play had a drastically different feel from that which came before, but did not feel out of place”

Following the interval came Vegas by Alice Roberts and Louis Hadfield, the first act of an hour long play running at the Corpus this Easter and at the Edinburgh Fringe in summer. The audience was first greeted by two people in a bed on stage, surrounded by a messy assortment of clothes and objects. Vegas follows Freddie, a scouser, and Poppy, a southerner (which is crucial to the plot), as they wake up with no memory after a drunken night out in an unknown location eventually revealed to be Slough (which is also, as it is too revealed, the place of their wedding). The dialogue between the two characters, brought to life by Grace Heslin and Coby O’Brien, flowed as if it was completely natural. Credit is due to both skillful writing and confident performance. The chemistry was obvious, and despite this being only the first act, I began to feel for these two people and their humorous yet heartfelt relationship.

“The chemistry was obvious”

With the Q and A, more behind the story of these plays was gradually revealed, and it became clear that each of the works were in some way born out of the personal. For Alice Roberts and Louis Hadfield of Vegas, the play grew out of a series of conversations that they had shared, which explained the translation into such naturally humorous dialogue on stage. Written, as Alice explained, for themselves to eventually play the two roles, Vegas was crafted with their own relationship in mind. In other words, this story may be removed from their own lives, but one could tell that it was profoundly personal. As Miles Hitchens articulated for his play A Dog’s Case, an interest in ethics and a more recent situation concerning XL Bullies in the UK sparked the creation of this parody. Knowing his other two works performed in Cambridge, it felt special to see another dog-themed passion project successfully finding its feet. Jonathan Wilson seemed more apprehensive to reveal a ‘meaning’ behind Anatomy of a Misguided Dragon Slayer, but its unexpected depth gave a relatability to his absurd, panto-esque performance.

Usually after watching theatre, rumination comes in the form of either thinking to oneself or talking with those who shared the experience - it is rare that questions are able to be answered, or at least rare that plays are able to be expanded and explained. I was grateful that the festival provided this opportunity for discussion when the performances and questions were so fresh in all of our minds. At moments, it was as if the writers were still in the process of working out their ideas, a refreshing prioritisation of development when often it feels as if everything, especially in the theatre world, must be treated as a fully-fledged and perfectly polished product. In reality, student theatre should be more like this: prioritising growth, valuing beginnings and including audiences in a process of shared creativity.