Britannia Waves the Rules offers an impassioned insight into unemployment in a town left behind by globalisation. The protagonist Carl (Connor Dumbrell) captures the agony of the unemployed in his town, who are acutely aware of the powerlessness of their present state, and the play follows his arduous adaptation from warfare to civilian life.

One of the most potent representations of these internal conflicts is the deployment of a harness in the production. Carl struggles against its constraints, but remains frustrated and fixed; the effect of this physical theatre is brilliant. He tries to outrun his jealousy of wealthy people in the other town, his agony and anger at being unable to find a job, and his shame at a father who’s forced into borderline lunacy by the death of his wife. And though he runs, and tries so hard to outrun his past, his town, and his reality, he’s still in the same place, always.

The army is his saviour, promising to “show him the world”. And what a world they show him. They promise him purpose, the sights, camaraderie, brotherhood, glory and most importantly an escape from a city he can no longer bear. It is an escape, but it’s from the frying pan and into the fire for Carl. And he comes back from his military service abruptly, having killed too many people he probably shouldn’t have and lost too many friends, disillusioned with everything the army promised him.

He comes back to Blackpool, and the same place he used to visit with his uncle as a child. But it’s not him. It’s the part of him that now remains. Bitter, presumably suffering from PTSD and feeling like anything but a “hero” from the war, all his soul searching and all that suffering only got him back to where he started, beneath the same window, created masterfully by tinkering with a spotlight focused on the wall, in the bar with the coats in a heap in the corner which he loathed. 

Carl is, for the most part, effective in showing the varied emotions of this young lad from Blackpool. His stamina has to be lauded: that he runs around so much and is still able to shout at that volume for so many of his scenes is noteworthy. Even some of the actors who come in for short periods of time give memorable performances. 

As a foil, the character Bilko, his mate at the army and perhaps the only other character fleshed out somewhat after Carl, is effective. His performance of disillusionment, preempting and reflecting Carl’s sentiments was carried out well. Moreover, Carl’s father’s descent into his obsession with trains, and his desperate attempts to connect with his child through gifts and explaining the complex effects of fluid dynamics in a whistle, is moving and painful to watch at the same time. Noteworthy, also, are the black hooded figures who come and assist in the transitions between scenes, which is a good idea, even if at times executed clumsily.

While the actors are impeccable, the script itself is hugely problematic. And any logical thinking will show you problems you can’t reconcile. You can’t throw in the fact that you probably casually killed helpless people in Afghanistan, and then expect me to feel sorry for someone who doesn’t have a job in Blackpool, and whose crush moved away and now has a family. It just doesn’t equate. Having seen these issues played out on stage, I remain emotionally unconvinced that these feelings can be reconciled. 

However, the cast undeniably addressed this work with thought and sensitivity. Overall, this is a play with good performances and a bearable script. It is certainly not a bad choice for an evening of entertainment