The warning sign by the Arcola Theatre, currently showing the world premiere of the new play “Cargo” by Tess Berry-Hart, is intriguing and encouraging.It reads: “Please note that this performance contains swearing, loud noises, prolonged periods of darkness, haze, and scenes of a sexual nature.”Many may think it's just their sort of thing. They may also take note of a second sign which advises that due to the nature of the production, latecomers cannot be admitted under any circumstances.The reason for this becomes very clear on descending to the Arcola’s Studio 2, which has been converted into a facsimile of a cross-channel ferry’s hold. The audience sits on packing-cases with bin-liner tops, uncomfortable, but surely deliberately so. It is a terrifying flashback to last year’s footage of containers in which more than 70 migrants died in Hungary. The program credits Max Dorey for the set, and Christopher Nairne for lighting design – though the latter seems almost unnecessary as the audience is plunged into total blackness for the first 10 minutes. Out of the gloom come the voices of the cast as the plot subtly transpires. They are refugees stowing away, on their way to a brave new world.The play was always going to be relevant and topical with Europe’s refugee crisis, though it has gained extra momentum with the British vote to leave the European Union, with many opinion polls suggesting that the Brexit choice of some voters was related primarily to the level of immigration. “Cargo” has gained even more relevance in the last few days with a new British prime minister.It would take a cold hearted person to have no sympathy with these desperate people, who in this account are escaping from a cataclysmic war. Nonetheless, the playwright is aware that there are those who are opposed to the free movement of refugees. As the characters say, people are scared of newcomers “taking jobs and money away.” Seeing real poverty and despair, even comfortably-off people are uncomfortably aware “how they are close to it” themselves.There probably should be a third warning sign on the way in, saying: “Danger: extremely earnest play with harrowing conflict and humor sucked out of it.” All 80 minutes, with no interval, pass with hardly a laugh to be heard. Well, there was one when the most complex character, the American Kayffe played by John Schwab, remarks to his fellow travelers that they are “all literally in the same boat.”The background is painted in hues of a relentlessly bleak world.America has been effectively destroyed and dead, although Alaska is charitably saved. Europe’s borders are “going up and down like a whore’s drawers,” with its libraries and schools burned. Birds are barbequed for food. The escapees are preyed upon by traffickers, who turn them into sex slaves, and by lynch mobs – blasphemers are stoned to death and suspected rapists are torn apart by crowds of women.Gangs plunder the bodies of the healthy, removing eyeballs and kidneys and leaving the victims to bleed to death. Women, we are told, are particularly valuable for their reproductive organs such as fallopian tubes.Tensions flare and a knife is brandished before the key quote: “Goods get damaged all the time; wouldn’t want to spoil the cargo now, would we?"Much of this vision comes from the playwright’s own heart-on-sleeve commitment, and after the ship has sailed into Calais at the end of the play, she makes an appearance to speak up for Calais Action, a direct-giving charity to help refugees in Europe.Three things just about rescue the evening from tipping over into political dogma or preaching. First, some fine direction by David Mercatali. Second, committed acting by a talented cast of four. While Jack Gouldbourne is making a professional stage debut, Debbie Korley brings considerable experience to the part of the mysterious Sarah, who has paid for a fake passport and the right of passage. Milly Thomas plays Joey, on the run from vigilantes. She points out that many refugees are not gold-diggers and leave their homelands with extreme reluctance.The third thing that “Cargo” has going for it is an inventive script. In a tender moment, the stowaways recall the meals they most liked from happier days, from brandy cake to home-made sausages. Their flight is compared to the migration of birds such as swallows heading to Africa, and the travels of the albatross.Kayffe is constantly dropping classical allusions as we try to untangle what, if anything, he says is true. It would be easy not to care as the dynamic constantly changes from one character to another being on top, as the knife changes hands and tensions rise. There is just enough to keep it going. It gradually becomes obvious that for each to survive they have a stake in getting rid of one of the others.On the way out of the Arcola, past Berry-Hart and her leaflets for Calais Action, there is another sign which proclaims, in a self-consciously contrarian mode to some of the Brexit campaign literature: “Refugees are welcome here.” Those that agree will have more sympathy with this play. How many will change their minds to this point of view after seeing it is an open question.“Cargo” by Tess Berry-Hart is at Studio 2, the Arcola, through August 6, 2016.
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