Inside We Hide - Fringe World 2016 (9 February 2016)

An elephant. One of the strongest animals on Earth. Tied to a peg in the ground. Yet it won’t move. Conditioned from a young age by handlers who tied it to logs. It strained and strained but could not move. Fully grown now it doesn’t try anymore, not even against the smallest of pegs. Even though it could easily free itself.

Aren’t some of us like that in many ways? Locked in a destructive perception of ourselves through guilt or fear or shame or simply through conditioning. Being told over and over. Not good enough. Not attractive enough. Not smart enough. Not enough. If only we tugged against the negative self talk, the doubts, the lack of self esteem we could free ourselves. But like the elephant sometimes we don’t. We listen to the silly voices in our head. The opinion of others.

And so Mary (Verity Softly) finds herself in a room littered with potatoes and used water canisters. With a rope tied around one ankle. The other end of the rope disappears through a hole in the wall. She’s greeted by the wisecracking Louise (Alicia Osyka) who’s been here a while but doesn’t seem too forthcoming about divulging the ‘rules’. Mary discovers another newcomer, Andy (Brenn Hislop), who is disoriented and in pain.

Slowly we learn there is someone watching. Who issues instructions. In a childish girl’s voice. Who shows each of them things. No, not things. People. People somewhere else who are suffering because of them. Each one’s reaction is different. They are trapped. They must face whatever it is that has led to them being tethered. In a room. With no escape. They must suffer the consequences of their actions, culpable in the fate of others.

It’s an intriguing premise by writer Ann-Marie Biagioni. Billed as a thriller I kept waiting for a twist and perhaps James Wan and Leigh Whannell are to blame for that. But no twist came; the owner of the childish voices wasn’t revealed; and the stakes weren’t ratcheted up as one might expect. This felt more a character study about the ways we trap ourselves rather than those who would seek to ensnare us for amusement or sinister intent. The play also ends on a thematic note instead of a plot driven climax so the thriller moniker feels a little misleading.      

The psychological character study is aided by strong performances from Osyka and Softly who really are the two in direct conflict. Hislop’s Andy felt more a device so he had less to work with and I never quite understood his motivation for attempting an extreme act in response to seeing his ‘victim’. Despite a long monologue attempting to explain this. The labyrinth details didn’t convince.

Osyka is excellent at the casual delivery of a sharp one liner or throwaway snide remark. We wonder if her Louise is delusional or maybe even complicit in some way. Perhaps she is the most damaged of the lot. It’s a fine line to tread and it’s an intriguing performance.

Softly plays Mary with straight forward earnestness that butts up against the superficial glibness of Osyka’s Louise. They are at different ends of the spectrum – compassionate versus disinterested; desperate versus resigned. It’s the cut and thrust of their conversations that form the foundation of the play.

The set design, lighting and sound design provide an effective mood of disquiet. The tangle of ropes is particularly effective. Though more could have been made of their shortening length as ‘she’ becomes displeased with the actions or responses of her playthings.

Ultimately it felt like the characters were let off the hook but then maybe that’s the point. It’s the individual who decides to stop listening to those childish voices of self-doubt and fear and pull away from whatever restraint holds them in place... or not. 

Written by Ann-Marie Biagioni, Directed by Scott Corbett and featuring Brenn Hislop, Alicia Osyka, and Verity Softly, this The Cutting Room Floor production is on at The Blue Room until 13 February.

On The Face Of Things - Fringe World 2016 (30 January 2016)

Who is more exposed? The actor who stands onstage looking out at a sea of expectant faces all scrutinising and judging every word, every movement, and every expression? Or the playwright who reveals fragments of their true self in the dialogue, themes, and subtext they labour so assiduously to craft? How does the relationship between actor and writer affect the creative process and overall end result? What does this all have to do with coffee?  

These are only a few of the questions posed by an intriguing play presented by a 12 person ensemble cast from the Western Australian Youth Theatre Company. Unfortunately there was no program so I apologise for not knowing any of their names other than the two alumni from WAYTCo’s excellent Punk Rock (2014), Claire Thomas and Chelsea Gibson.

The production it must be said is somewhat discombobulating at first. A young actor walks on stage and announces himself to be 51 year old playwright Thomas Douglas Finn. He will be our Narrator having written this his first play. The cast are introduced by Mister Finn and instructed to make eye contact with the audience. Then comes the coffee. Well, it would if the characters, the primary ones distinguished only by a letter of the alphabet, could decide who is going to get the coffee, what coffee to get, and how to distribute the coffee without anyone knowing who ordered what. Coffee it seems is a big deal.

Writer and cast interact insomuch as the writer instructs the actors on what to say and how to say it. Occasionally actors will protest or seek to give input. An announcer calls out scene numbers. The writer narrates to the audience. It’s all very meta and self-aware and, at times, perhaps a little too clever for its own good. What we’re seeing though is the creative process through the eyes of the writer (much to the consternation and confusion of the actors). There’s even a Robert McKee reference thrown in. McKee, of course, is considered by some to be the doyen of screenwriting theory.

This brings me to the film Adaptation which contains a very funny scene featuring McKee as played by Brian Cox. In that film the great screenwriter Charlie Kaufman struggles to adapt a novel about tulips to the big screen. Instead his script morphs into a meditation on the creative process. He even invents a fictional twin brother. It struck me about halfway through that On The Face of Things, in conception, is its theatrical equivalent.

This is when our erstwhile writer Mister Finn turns out to be someone else entirely… who turns out to be someone else entirely. Yes, the writer has concealed themselves in their own construct afraid to reveal their true motivations, doubts, and fears. That biggest fear is that the play has no ending. Why? We surmise that it’s because during the writing of it the writer fell in love. The riffs on coffee I expect are extrapolations of real life conversations between the writer and their new love. 

There is a tender scene towards the end where two of the characters share an intimate moment with all the artifices and devices stripped away. Then it’s time to end the play with a reprise of the actors gazing out at the audience and told to gauge the reaction to what has just been rendered.

It’s a showy piece that calls for some over-exaggerated acting, magic realism, and some chorus work of deliberately stunted enthusiasm. The performers all do well with the actor playing A and Thomas given greatest prominence as are the trio who represent the writer. The entire cast work well as an ensemble. 

It’s in the quieter more honest moments, however, that the play excels when we come to realise this is about being true to who you really are. There is no need for all the masks (or, in this case, plastic cylindrical cones) and deception. Love can distract us from all the tasks and deadlines of our lives like finishing a play but it also has a way of revealing our essence, doubts and all. 

On the Face of Things is written by Thomas Douglas Finn or was it Susan Catchmore? No, actually it was Alicia Osyka; directed by Dominic Mercer, and starring the WAYTCo Ensemble. It is on at Parrot House in Maylands on 31 January, 12-14 February.