The name of the play leaves much to the imagination, perhaps lending suspicion to a play about a pork enthusiast. The reality is that the play is in fact of a much more abstract nature.
Last Wednesday, I was welcomed into the Alphabetti Theatre, Newcastle’s smallest and most intimate venue, to watch Bacon Knees and Sausage Fingers.
The play follows the lives of two men as they journey from childhood to adulthood. The characters are equally as out of place in this world, as the title is abstract. Within the hour and a half performance, I was invited to laugh, somewhat hysterically, at the tales of the anonymous characters; but what I remembered about the play as I left, and even as I woke up the next morning, is the way I was made to feel saddened and at points, on the verge of tears.
The venue was intimate; meaning all I could do was come to terms with what it must be like to live a life where you’re constantly an outsider. This, as well as the structure, was something I’d never seen or experienced before.
The play was heavily repetitive, perhaps one of the only downfalls of the play. As each dialogue ended, we returned to the opening words, gaining only a few more lines of insight each time, meaning an incredibly slow progression to the play.
In all, the play was excellent. I want to end by urging any art enthusiast to visit this gorgeous, small slice of heaven in the heart of the city centre. The Alphabetti Theatre faces closure, and can only go on with the support of enthusiasts like yourself.