These days, Brixton Academy is an essential part of London’s cultural landscape. But there was a time when it was just a derelict old cinema building. In Alex Urwin’s play, inspired by the memoir Live at Brixton Academy by Simon Parkes, we watch as the space transforms into something sacred.
This is Parkes’s story: a thalidomide baby who bought the cinema for just £1 at the age of 23. It begins during his teenage years at Gordonstoun School in Scotland, where Parkes studied alongside Prince Andrew (he sweats ‘like you wouldn’t believe,’ by the way). At first it seems like your standard coming-of-age tale. He bunks off regularly and takes the train to London, desperate to experience the grit and glamour of London’s rock’n’roll underbelly. It’s a world far removed from the polished corridors of his elite boarding school.
But right from the start, it feels like this is where Parkes needs to be. A love of music is woven deep into his bones, and when he discovers the soon-to-be Academy, it’s love at first sight. Over the next few years, Parkes and his eclectic team of locals build up the music venue from scratch. Soon, it’s the go-to place to play for icons, including The Clash, Blondie, The Smiths and The Pogues.
Directed by Bronagh Lagan, the experience is akin to watching a gig. With cables curling around the stage’s exterior, graffiti decorating the walls, and a tapestry of old flyers lining the floor, the room buzzes with raw energy. Smoke fills the theatre, and the music, when it comes, beats through your chest just like you’re standing among a crowd. Playing Parkes, Max Runham has the air of a frontman: he cheekily winks at the audience, dancing between narration and performance with effortless swagger.
By his side is the brilliant Tendai Sitima, who takes on a range of supporting roles — most crucially, Parkes’ trusted number two, Johnny Lawes. Together, they both show and tell us how the Academy’s identity evolved over the years. Set against a backdrop of shifting politics and social change, it feels like a space born of, and for, its time. It becomes a home for progressive thinkers: anti-apartheid campaigners pass through the doors to have their say, Arthur Scargill makes speeches during the miners’ strikes and drag performers dance the night away.
Still, fitting years of history into 100 minutes is a tall order, and many of the major moments feel rushed. A love story with his eventual wife, Pippa, is hurried through, while Parkes himself is painted as almost saint-like: his imperfections are glossed over, and his decisions are never doubted. Exploring his flaws more would have added nuance and depth to the account.
Brixton Calling is a powerful reminder of how places and people shape culture. And for many in the audience, the play is a joyful nod to years gone by: I see a group of men in band t-shirts with tears in their eyes. The venue’s legacy is palpable and there’s a beating heart of community that continues to echo long after the last encore.
