Hoping to catch a glimpse of Kevin Spacey, actor Fergal McElherron went along to the 1998 Sunday Times Dublin Fringe Festival awards ceremony. He was accompanied by Niall Shanahan, his co-star in Mojo Mickybo, and Karl Wallace, artistic director of Kabosh theatre company and director of the show. Not only did the trio get to shake Spacey's hand that night, but they all went home clutching awards.
Kabosh may have been relatively unknown in Dublin but its production (voted best in the Fringe), of Owen McCafferty's short play about the friendship between two young boys, had obviously made an indelible impression. It wasn't a bad coup for the chameleon-like, Belfastbased theatre company which celebrates its fifth birthday in May. Established by six friends in 1994, Kabosh originally set out to produce "versatile" theatre, to "bounce" all over the place. "We went a bit crazy for the first three years," says Karl Wallace. "We did as much as we possibly could." Musicals, spoof comedies and serious dramas were accordingly followed by drag cabaret and a variety of Christmas shows.
Despite critical acclaim, the company felt it lacked focus. This viewpoint, says Wallace, was shared by Kabosh's funding body, the Arts Council of Northern Ireland. In January 1997 therefore, Kabosh re-launched itself with a new, rather contentious artistic policy. From then on it vowed, it would produce work which was "inspired by the screen and crafted for the stage."
Karl Wallace is the only founding member still with Kabosh. Financially, the company could not support six people. Even now, Kabosh can only offer actors expenses while rehearsing and an equity-based wage during tours. Wallace is unhesitant about using the plaudits recently heaped upon Kabosh to highlight problems of under-funding. "Kabosh does not have parity with other companies producing similar work," he says. "In Northern Ireland we're classed as being an established theatre company with a good reputation like Tinderbox, Prime Cut, Dubbeljoint, Big Telly and Replay.
"However, all of these companies get a minimum of £50,000. Kabosh gets £15,000 and that's to run two productions a year and an administrative base which has two part time staff . . . Now that there's a buzz about Kabosh, I'd like to think that we'll get enough money."
Wallace is equally blunt about the reasons for Kabosh's change in artistic policy. He realises that for some purists, the notion of the stage even nodding in the direction of film, video or television, is "abhorrent". Nevertheless, he remains resolutely pragmatic about the obstacles facing theatre and challenges sceptics to experience a Kabosh production before shuddering at the concept of the company's approach. "Audiences, whether you like it or not, are depleting," he says. "New writing is exceptionally hard to sell, so using the influences and styles of something that people are already familiar with really helps." Kabosh's second artistic policy was not, Wallace emphasises, plucked from thin air. The company had already performed Dennis Potter's Blue Remembered Hills and Torch Song Trilogy and was planning to do a stage version of Stephen King's Misery. Its production of Owen McCafferty's Freefalling, which won the Little Devil award for best play at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival in 1996, is encased in the film noir genre.
Wallace likes to interpret Kabosh's newer ambitions as liberally as possible. Every theatre company, he points out, must adhere to an artistic policy. Kabosh can now do Edward Scissorhands, "word for word, image for image", as a Christmas show, or it can choose to embrace subtler, more tenuous screen links. Kabosh's latest Christmas show was a musical adaptation of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. In the autumn, the company will perform an all male, "exceptionally physical" version of Romeo and Juliet, drawing on the dynamic of, but not emulating Baz Luhrmann's film.
Wallace is keen to use Kabosh to develop the visual potential of theatre, which he feels is not sufficiently explored in Ireland. He stresses that this does not mean new writing will be marginalised. Commissioned by Kabosh, Owen McCafferty's Mojo Mickybo was inspired by Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Unsurprisingly, Wallace describes himself as a "big Brecht fan", one of the reasons he believes McCafferty's work appeals to him. Wallace thinks that he could set up Mojo Mickybo, which is performed in a hexagonal space with no props or costume changes, on a factory floor.
Probably one of the best examples of how Kabosh can imaginatively exploit its artistic policy, the play is littered with quirky, colourful characters and vibrant Belfast street-speak. Rapid cycles of childhood hilarity give way to grimmer, darker sequences. While the two protagonists refer to Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid throughout, Mojo Mickybo is completely accessible to those who have never seen the film.
For Niall Shanahan and Fergal McElherron, who created the parts of Mojo and Mickybo, the piece is an "actor's dream", presenting them as it does, with the opportunity to play numerous parts. Sharing the award for best male actor at the Dublin Fringe seemed appropriate to both of them since their characters are so totally intertwined. They are looking forward to Mojo Mickybo's second all-Ireland tour, as is Karl Wallace. While Torch Song Trilogy and Misery also toured Ireland, Kabosh, according to Wallace doesn't "go into the South very often", due to lack of finance. Travelling to as many venues as possible, however, has always been part of the company's aim. From its inception, Kabosh has prided itself on breaking moulds, adopting "ignite, stimulate, excite and educate" as catchwords. Audience members and lighting designers are considered to be as important as actors. Team work is valued. Prima donnas are actively discouraged.
Theatre, Wallace feels, is not about personalities or pretentiousness. When the six friends established Kabosh in 1994, they wanted to provide an alternative to what they felt was an unwelcome plethora of colloquial theatre on offer in Northern Ireland. "The day that theatre stops challenging," Wallace says, `is the day that it really needs to shut its doors."
