Will and Cait have escaped to the countryside, to raise their young son, write children’s books and eat
wholesome home cooking night after night. But a wayward Christmas card finds its way to a long-lost friend
that they had secretly hoped would stay lost.

Griff is on a mission to prove himself a changed man, with the past long behind him – but in a world where
everything feels said and done already, is change possible? Are we doomed to repeat our past mistakes?
Are we doomed to repeat ourselves?

In a witty, dark drama about marriage, property, creativity and fish recipes, The Kiss explores the struggle
between safety and spontaneity, passion and greed.

The actors in this three-hander from director Matt Aston were still tensed-up when it came to final bows,
and no wonder; from end to end it’s a tense play. Glyn Cannon’s realistic and fractured dialogue and the
sometimes unbearably honest acting make it gripping theatre. And, since it’s done in the round, you’re right
in there with character and situation.

Old friend Griff of newly-weds Will and Cait, who’ve down-sized to the sticks, turns up one evening - to stay.
The kitchen table, almost the only item on the bare set, is soon commandeered for other things besides the
hapless Will's badly cooked meals.

Some of the short, sharp scenes are almost identical because present action is paralleled with snatches
from the past, one snatch in particular being a passionate, mutually stolen, kiss.

The embarrassing tension at meal-times is brilliantly captured by all three. In the end - the most moving bit -
Will, voice broken with emotion, realises what’s been going on.

This is another successful in-house production from Lakeside.

[Alan Geary]

Matt Aston’s latest Lakeside production, the premiere of Glyn Cannon’s thirty-something relationship drama
The Kiss, is a paradoxical entity, as richly textured yet stripped-down as contemporary theatre gets. On a
raised platform, a table and three chairs await the arrival of two male friends and a young woman. Overhead,
a gigantic shattered mirror hovers ominously.

When Cait (Emma Pike) and unwelcome arrival Griff (Steve Jackson) finally appear, the scene is set with a blast
of Do You Love Me Now? by The Breeders. Cait’s awkwardness around Griff’s looming, taciturn presence is our
first glimpse of a link that goes back seven years. The duo seem as exposed on the stage as any two specimens
on a microscope slide.

In a beautifully constructed series of flashbacks and scenes from a weekend of wine, meals and conversation in
the present, the script scratches at the surfaces of Cait’s previous near-miss sexual encounter with Griff, and the
circumstances of her down-sizing move to the rural South-West with Griff’s estranged childhood friend,
Will (Stephen Hudson), to raise a son and write children’s books.

On one level, it’s a simple, almost clichéd story of compromise, betrayal and possible forgiveness: a classic
love triangle. In the telling The Kiss excels, offering the actors plenty of scope to create an emotional chaos
that tugs against the script’s clinical precision.

[Wayne Burrows]

Written by Glyn Cannon (whose previous work includes Scotsman Fringe First Award winner Gone), The Kiss
is an intense exploration of human archetypes and the impact a kiss, whether stolen or given, can have in
people's lives, with all but two scenes set around the infinitely domestic kitchen table.

The square stage platform is placed in the centre of the theatre and the seating sparsely assembled around it,
two sides containing only a couple of rows. Very much a fly on the wall production, The Kiss' towering square
platform and sole upward lighting creates an intense atmosphere in which emotional attachment to the
characters develops rapidly. Based in a cottage in a small South Western village, the remoteness of the setting
is only emphasised by the stage design.

Scenes are separated by an intensely claustrophobic combination of fading black outs and the throbbing bass
and ethereal vocals of The Breeders' 'Do You Love Me Now?' The faithful and unadventurous Will (Stephen
Hudson) and cuckolding wife Cait (Emma Pike), have retreated to the country to write children's books and
raise their son, when an old friend comes to call. Griff, played by Steve Jackson, is a tormented, selfish and
spontaneous man on a mission to change. Basing his decisions entirely on his immediate desires, he crashes
into Cait and Will's home life, hell bent on having her for his own. In spite of being determined not to repeat
past mistakes, his psychological devices and lack of regard for others begin to erode at Cait and Will's life
together, as he progressively undermines it and attempts to win her over.

The pivotal point of the play arrives when, having agreed to felicitations with Griff while Will takes their son to
the park, Cait changes her mind and retreats to her room. With only her face visible, she cries silently into the dark. When Will discovers her and fails to question her anguish, fearing her response. While Will and Griff's
characters juxtapose against each other, Cait's position is very much a one of human weakness. The only
character left alone onstage throughout the production, her betrayal of Will and inability to resist Griff's
charms are massively relatable faults, as she struggles to identify her priorities.

With emotions running on maximum throughout, the acting is flawless; anguish, guilt, blame and frustration
flinging across the stage with every line. An intense, if slightly exhausting, exploration of human relationships,
it is well worth viewing and provokes a deeper understanding of argument dynamics as a whole.

[Abigail Outhwaite]

Lakeside Arts Centre uses its flexible space to present this play in the round, making for a very intimate
experience. The set consists of a large, shattered mirror suspended over a simple kitchen table which
witnesses friendly chats, home-cooked meals, angry exchanges, extra-marital sex and the continual arrival
and departure of crockery.

Will and Cait have left the city and their stressful lives and downsized to the South West where they raise
their young son. Somehow, they accidentally send their ex-best friend, Griff, a Christmas card and one day
he arrives on their doorstep unannounced and not entirely welcome. The scenes of his arrival and his stay
in the house are presented many times. Sometimes Griff has come to seduce Cait and run away with her; in
other instances he has come to apologise for behaviour in the past and to show that he has changed. Not only
are the events changed with each telling, but the past is too; the eponymous kiss between Griff and Cait years
earlier may or may not have happened.

Although the style of story telling is a little bewildering at first, the play quickly drags you into the swing of
things. As the various parallel events meld to a single story, we are shown a picture of a dangerous tug of love
and an unhappy, frustrated woman trapped by circumstance.

Emma Pike is brilliant, portraying the inner emotions of Cait with great subtlety. Steve Jackson's deadpan
delivery is ideal for Griff and Stephen Hudson is also superb as Will. Director Matt Aston (noted for the
wonderful Retirement of Tom Stephens at Lakeside last year) has pulled off another triumph.

[Adrian Bhagat]