We find ourselves amongst Colin (Nick Holder) caring for his ailing elderly mother, Barbara (Anna Calder-Marshall), the unemployed Dean (Luke Clarke) desperately trying find a home for his pregnant partner Emma (Janet Eluk) and two children from a previous relationship, Jason (Vitaly Outkine) and Paige (Grace Doherty). More transient characters, perhaps a point about their migrant status,  are Somali woman Tharwa (Hind Swareldahab) and Syrian Adnan (Ammar Haj Ahmad), who light up when they discover that they speak the same language.

They are strangers forced to share their lives together in claustrophobic apparently temporary accommodation. The set by Natasha Jenkins is stark and bare, seats on the stage and fluorescent lighting keeping nothing a secret, breaking down boundaries between audience and cast in the same way as between characters.

Colin may be initially unlikeable, but as we see his unconditional love for his invalid mother, extending to her toilet duties, we become warm and broken hearted. Washing her hair at the communal sink with fairy liquid is one of only many tender moments between the two. The familiar protest of getting up in the morning and family merriment, rehearsing for a nativity play and football practice, thinking of a Happy Meal – these every days moments all become something to marvel at given the situation we see.

‘I feel like a little girl sometimes’ says an invalid Barbara to young child Paige, who she builds a strained relationship with. For so many through no fault of their own, be it war, unemployment, illness or any of the struggles we face in life, things don’t turn out the way dreamed of us a child.

Through overheard phone calls to council offices and failed meetings we learn the cyclical nature of benefits, housing, sanctions and punishments and the very real pressures they cause on relationships and situations. Dean and Emma struggle to explain to their children just why they are sharing a pack of microwave rice between four, and when Barbara says to Colin that his life will be much better when she has died and removed herself as a burden, he can’t disagree, as much as he loves her. It all feels futile and intense, and painful to watch and imagine those for whom this is a reality. This isn’t poverty porn, and neither is it social commentary. Instead Zelkin has created an honest portrayal of the lives of many caught in the poverty trap, restrictive and destructive.

Mesmerising in its mundane details, powerful in its psychological power, it was created through a collaborative devising process with an ensemble of actors, all based on real occurrences. Choosing to run at just over 90 minutes with no interval was a smart move, as it intensifies the emotional potency.

As Barbara makes her way from the stage through the crowd to what we assume to be a bewildered ending, the audience is on the edge of tears. A few seconds later as the play ends, they are on their feet, in a unanimous standing ovation. Raving about a performance of a situation that should not exist. The next question is whether LOVE has raised enough emotion within us to do something about it. That truly is LOVE.

LOVE is running until January 10th 2017

Bristol’s Creative Youth Network and their seasonal performance of Turkey is a production formed through collaborative workshops with young people participating in their schemes and arts initiatives, all based on true stories . Written by Alice Nicholas, directed by Nick Young and produced by Emily Bull, although very much created by the cast and their peers, this immersive and real life performance at The Station is both tender and gripping – just like the rest of the festive season.

‘T’was the night before Christmas’ begins our narrator Theo (Jake Bartlett), in his dazzling glitzy jacket – and as we hear from the characters it can be everything from borderline hell or most wonderful time of the year.’  Homelessness, poverty, loneliness, broken relationships and illness can all take their toll – and the feeling of being alone and failing is only exacerbated by what looks like the perfect Christmas that everyone else all around is having.  . Often through no fault of their own individuals find themselves unable to produce that perfect day, ‘just like everyone else.’ That’s what Abigail (Cirwen Farrant) wants for her and her unborn baby Biscuit, and she speaks tenderly to her child about the eternal hope of the new year and what it will bring. ‘I should be happy and full of Christmas cheer’ our characters feel – that should weighing them down.

Like most ‘perfect’ things in life, the depiction tends to be a somewhat filtered version of events. Whether it’s the Black Friday consumerist fight, one-upmanship pursuit, the hypocrisy of ‘pretending to believe in Jesus once a year then go back to being c*nts’, the demands of bratty children, finding out Father Christmas isn’t real, or  just the fact that domestic bliss skates on thin smiles that crack by something as simple as not buying ribbon. In the pursuit of the ideal Christmas the endless ‘rush, anxiety, panic and failure’ ring more loudly than any peace and goodwill.

Or so it seems. Because for everyone who walks straight past the homeless, there’s those like Hazel’s (Emily Gilbert) family who invite Alfie (Matt Fleming) and his ‘invisibility cloak’ in for dinner. Or Abigail and her sister Jas hand crafting presents. Or the mother supported through her breakdown.

And people like Creative Youth Network and the participants of Turkey. As well providing a brilliant evening’s entertainment and making the whole audience think, they invited us all to share a meal with them, all donated by FareShare and would have gone to landfill otherwise. Sharing, laughing, and feeling part of a community – that’s what Christmas is about, and that’s what Creative Youth dished up with their Turkey.

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