Manic Street Creature at Kiln Theatre – review

Manic Street Creature is a tooth-achingly earnest song-cycle about the effects of poor mental health on the support system.

Ria (Maimuna Memon, also book writer and composer) has just moved to London with nothing but an overpriced room in zone two and a song in her heart. Traipsing round the city trying to make it as a gigging musician, she incidentally meets Daniel, and their lives immediately entwine. But Daniel’s bipolar disorder soon starts to interfere with their romance, and neither is really equipped.

It’s a unique perspective, one that I haven’t seen explored so much, and the full cast, and Memon in particular, clearly mean it. It’s something you can near on guarantee with a production that has come from the Fringe, because you don’t put yourself through that unless you really care about the material.

In terms of the structure, there’s a suggestion right at the beginning and end that we’re witnessing a recording session, so there’s little else occurring on stage. This works well enough; the musicians strolling about and swapping instruments freely, keeping the audience’s eye sufficiently focused.

The music, however, is winsome to the point of insipid, and the songs rely aggressively on repetition rather than catchy hooks – “I’m on my way, I’m on my way, I’m on my way, I’m on my way” both opens and closes the show.

The musicianship is fantastic, and Memon’s vocals soar above, her poppy trills and rich belting notes as crisp and controlled as the more expositional lyrics.

With few moving parts besides the musicians themselves, Jessica Hung Han Yun’s lighting design holds court, from a gentle seeping in through the tall, frosted windows, to a near blinding flood as the songs build in intensity. And the final cue – diffused, slowly spinning starry lights travelling into the audience, expressing Ria’s renewed optimism and lust for life – is charming.

I wonder if this would be better suited to a YA audience. Despite the protagonist “hurtling towards 30”, it feels much like a coming-of-age story, learning who you are in the big city, and the emotional journey is dramatic but simple.