What would you do to become a pioneer? To have your name
recorded in history? What lengths would you take to become truly famous? What
would you be prepared to sacrifice? In our efforts to strive for that sort of
immortality do we reveal our basest instincts… our most terrible selves?
Those are just some of the questions The Mars Project
explores using a recent real life plan to colonise the red planet by 2025 as
its foundation. In that instance over 200,000 people applied to become interplanetary
travellers. How then to whittle down to the handful of pioneers whose names
will be lauded forever?
The answer presented here is a mix of Big Brother reality
style social experiment; the sort of manufactured team bonding exercise you
find in the corporate world (your plane crashes in sub-Arctic conditions and
you can only retrieve 15 items – which ones and why?); and the musings of an
inspirational speaker who urges you to become the best version of yourself.
Throw in a spin doctor and an eager applicant and all bets are off.
But interestingly there is another layer – our presumptive
heroine Wren (Elle Harris) has a twin - autistic brother, Sam (Luke Fewster). We
also meet many other autistic characters such as Mars Billy (Seamus Quinn) who
is fixated on the neighbouring planet, displaying an encyclopaedic knowledge
that he blurts out in rapid fire chunks. Sam, however, is silent as he twirls a
red hula hoop around his waist in, if I’m not mistaken, an elliptical orbit.
Like Wren and Sam, it’s posited that Earth and Mars are twins of a similar
fashion, one alive and vibrant; the other dark and mysterious. There are nice
parallels throughout.
Wren desperately wants to go to Mars and seeks out the
assistance of PR expert Sparkle (Hoa Xuande) who attempts to spin his candidate
into a winning position. Meanwhile others undertake the sub-Arctic selection
process while Sam, Mars Billy and other autistic children are being cared for.
Then there is the Tony Robbins style Robin (Dacre Montgomery) who entreats
everyone to be the agent of their own change. Crucially it’s his oft repeated mantras
that inform the drama that slowly unfolds – “glowing, stunning, forceful,
dominant and magnetic” being the five principles we all should strive for; and
even more salient, “I am not hurting you, I am helping myself.” This has
immense significance in the latter stages of the play.
Yes, there is a lot going on which is to be expected with a
play written to cater for 17 actors. I was a little lost at first but as
writer-director Will O’Mahony said at the Q&A after the show, he had to
introduce that many characters in the first 12 minutes and give them all
something meaningful to do. However, the main narrative thread of Wren’s
journey slowly emerges and we come to learn exactly what she is prepared to do
with a turning point that makes the final third riveting drama.
In this Harris is superb as she skilfully plays out Wren’s
complex arc – eager, driven, kind, manipulative, callous and calculating. From
crass outbursts of anger when things don’t go her way; to a sweetness dripped
in duplicity as she asks if Mars Billy would like to kiss her… but only if he
lies on her behalf; to a devastating climax where she is prepared to sacrifice even
her own brother to quench the thirst of her ambition; Harris displays great range
of emotion.
The other standout is Montgomery as Robin who epitomised the
unimpeachable confidence that marks the world renowned life coach (or snake
oil salesman), with the American accent, sleek look, the posture, the
gestures and vocal rhythms down pat.
Fewster plays the twin brother with a quiet physical
presence as he slowly circles the space, hula hoop always in motion. He excels
in the final moments where the stakes are ratcheted up as brother and sister’s
different orbits collide.
Others to impress – Lincoln Vickery who gave a memorable
rant of a monologue as perhaps the least likeable of all the characters; Quinn
who had a dense opening monologue of facts and figures delivered at breakneck
speed; Brittany Morel as another autistic character though there were
occasional echoes of her character from All My Sons with certain hand movements;
Claudia Ware giving her teacher a straightforward quality amongst the spin; and
Hoa Xuande handled the patter of Sparkle’s dialogue very well.
Indeed, the construction of the dialogue was, in itself, a
standout. There was clearly a love of language here with sly wordplay, a real
rhythm to each character’s speech patterns, and a dash of Sorkinese as thoughts
were re-ordered and represented in quick succession, noticeably for Sparkle.
Those rhythms really played well with such a talented cast.
The presentation itself was stripped back as Rehearsal Room
2 became a surrogate for the Enright Studio – a black box space with good use
of lighting and mood music with minimal props and no set to speak of. The
actors were front and centre. The only issue I had is that with the seating on
all four sides there were times I could not see a performer’s eyes. This was
occasionally regrettable in moments of high emotion and drama.
The play started a little slowly but developed into an
intriguing concept that really kicked into something quite special when the
turning point comes. This was delivered with clinical precision as Harris’ Wren
pivots the stakes into the stratosphere with a simple question with awful
ramifications. How that plays out is very well acted and executed and I loved
that O’Mahony let the final moments breathe so that it lingers with us long after
the lights have faded.
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