by Anne-Louise Fortune
With some three thousand five hundred shows at this year’s Edinburgh Festival Fringe, it’s no surprise that there’s a certain repetition of themes and ideas which become obvious as the Fringe proceeds. It’s perhaps more of a surprise to discover that there are two shows, both musicals, both concerning the life of Alan Turing, the father of modern computing.
One of these shows is Alan Turing: Guilty of Love, presented by David Kettle Productions. In the space of 90 minutes, the cast runs through the more well known aspects of Turing’s life, from his schooling at Sherborne, to his work on Enigma at Bletchley Park in World War Two.
The framing device used for the show is of his defence solicitor asking Alan questions that he hopes will assist in the charges of Gross Indecency levelled against him. We then witness a series of flashbacks, through which the chosen incidents from Turing’s life are shown. All of this is accompanied by songs, sung, and occasionally played, by the cast.
The music is of an operatic quality for many, but not all, of the songs. Curiously, the performance opens with a song seemingly about Jesus, and as this particular melody recurs throughout the piece, it becomes apparent that the writers are attempting to use this song as an allegory where Turing is a Christ-like figure, eventually crucified by society’s rules.
The multiple musical styles become confusing – sometimes the solo guitar of the religious allegory, sometimes opera numbers performed at a pitch that seemed to trouble some of the cast. Pitched an octave lower, what seemed to be a struggle, and thus uncomfortable to experience, would have been more effective. Some of the musical numbers also feel overly long, especially as the lyrics are often extremely repetitive. This does not help with the pacing of the production, which often feels slow.
In this version of Turing’s story, numbers are all that matter to Alan. He has no interest in interpersonal relationships, and acts almost with callousness towards Joan Clarke, the woman he became engaged to whilst working at Bletchley.
The supporting characters are a mixture of the faceless and the specific. It is a clever device to have every character who represents ‘the state’ played by the same actor. The actor who portrays Alan is making a solid fist of the role but appears hampered by having been directed to play Turing as utterly devoid of having any sort of social intelligence, making all Alan’s interactions with others frustrating and alienating.
Whilst attempting to make some good points – notably that it is the state that holds the monopoly on determining what constitutes harm – the book does not go far enough in questioning how valid it ever was for the state to intervene in the private lives of adults, or the implied hypocrisy that the “crime” of homosexually was overlooked at Bletchley in order to ensure that the war effort could continue untroubled by interfering police officers.
The most significant problem with this production is the decision to frame everything around Turing’s arrest and subsequent trial. He becomes nothing more than a defendant in an ultimately futile bid to retain his freedom. The song detailing the provisions of the Criminal Law Amendment Act 1885, which bookends the trial, fails to add anything that a straight recitation of that piece of legislation would not have delivered as effectively, and ultimately any dramatic tension is lost when songs are used in place of what should be tightly written dialogue.
The cast of eight do what they can, but are let down by material which, along with requiring a significant tightening, could also benefit from determining precisely what version of Alan they are trying to portray. In reducing Turing to his crimes, for which he was posthumously pardoned, the show reduces him to a shadow of the colossus he truly was.
Alan Turing – Guilty of Love continues at the Edinburgh Fringe until August 27th.
