There’s a number of potential at play in Snowflakes on the Park Theatre but it surely stays underexplored
“You’re just a job”
Perhaps inevitably, the ‘insult’ that’s snowflake has been abused and misused a lot that it says a lot extra about those that use it moderately than those that it’s meant to focus on (qv woke, PC, et al). Cancel tradition is one other time period that will get bandied about with little or no interrogation of what it really means (and if it really exists…) however within the universe of Robert Boulton’s Snowflakes, it very a lot does.
Positing a near-future world the place Black Mirror-ish shenanigans rule the roost, Marcus and Sarah are contract killers who livestream their work, its extent (and finality) dictated by a voracious on-line viewers. We meet them as they invade Tony’s lodge room, a controversial writer accused of sexual assault, but it surely seems justice and revenge show to be trickier ideas to keep up below the glare of social media outrage.
Boulton’s script arguably spends too lengthy on the set-up. It’s not so distinctive a state of affairs that it wants the entire first half dedicated to it and Michael Cottrell’s path doesn’t spark sufficient dynamism or comedy (though it being Sarah’s first job will get an honest chuckle or two). And even with all this time, there’s nonetheless a irritating lack of contextual element about how the entire operation works, significantly in how clandestine its administration seems to be.
A recreation forged give it their greatest – Boulton performs Marcus as full-on sadist, Henry Davis’ posh-boy ‘victim’ provides good desperation and Louise Hoare amps up the paradox of the wilful Sarah. But as Boulton’s script havers between society-wide declamations and private vendettas, it fatally dilutes the impression of each positions. In fudging its targets – whether or not social justice warriors, sexual assault perpetrators or simply outright sadists – these Snowflakes soften to nothing.