Cumbernauld Theatre
3 stars
It begins in the dark, Adrian Osmond’s interpretation of Sarah Kane’s final and most elliptical play, performed in his production for his SweetScar company by a solitary actor. We’ve already been led through the blackness to sit alone and disorientated in a manner counter to the received wisdom of shared theatrical experience. Slivers of light tease the senses on what turns out to be an elaborate cage-like construction which the man within it might just call home. Voices off give more clues, first with gently nudging inquiries, gradually rising in earnest. The man shaves, sets a table for two, opens a window, the elaborate mundanity of such minutiae silently masking the turmoil within.
Osmond has created a fascinating concept out of Kane’s fragmented script, re-contextualising it beyond the suicide note it’s often presumed to be. Actor Keith Macpherson plays the man as some shell-shocked survivor of an un-named internment, with hints of institutionalised water torture sanctioned by invading states who hang their war veterans out to dry and wonder why they fall apart. Equal partners in the experience, a co-production with Cumbernauld Theatre and Glasgow’s Tramway, where it visits this week, are Kai Fischer’s lighting, Kirsty Mackay’s entrapped design and, especially, Kenny MacLeod’s mesmeric soundscape, which weaves a multitude of disparate, untutored voices into a symphony of despair.
It doesn’t always work. There are moments in the play, however fleeting, of real two-way dialogue that require more than lip-synching. When MacPherson does speak, his interaction with the disembodied echo reminds you of Charlie Brown talking with the unseen adults in Charles Schultz’s Peanuts cartoons. By the time we come blinking into the light, however, body, mind and soul are shattered as one in a devastating piece of work.
The Herald, November 3rd 2008
ends
3 stars
It begins in the dark, Adrian Osmond’s interpretation of Sarah Kane’s final and most elliptical play, performed in his production for his SweetScar company by a solitary actor. We’ve already been led through the blackness to sit alone and disorientated in a manner counter to the received wisdom of shared theatrical experience. Slivers of light tease the senses on what turns out to be an elaborate cage-like construction which the man within it might just call home. Voices off give more clues, first with gently nudging inquiries, gradually rising in earnest. The man shaves, sets a table for two, opens a window, the elaborate mundanity of such minutiae silently masking the turmoil within.
Osmond has created a fascinating concept out of Kane’s fragmented script, re-contextualising it beyond the suicide note it’s often presumed to be. Actor Keith Macpherson plays the man as some shell-shocked survivor of an un-named internment, with hints of institutionalised water torture sanctioned by invading states who hang their war veterans out to dry and wonder why they fall apart. Equal partners in the experience, a co-production with Cumbernauld Theatre and Glasgow’s Tramway, where it visits this week, are Kai Fischer’s lighting, Kirsty Mackay’s entrapped design and, especially, Kenny MacLeod’s mesmeric soundscape, which weaves a multitude of disparate, untutored voices into a symphony of despair.
It doesn’t always work. There are moments in the play, however fleeting, of real two-way dialogue that require more than lip-synching. When MacPherson does speak, his interaction with the disembodied echo reminds you of Charlie Brown talking with the unseen adults in Charles Schultz’s Peanuts cartoons. By the time we come blinking into the light, however, body, mind and soul are shattered as one in a devastating piece of work.
The Herald, November 3rd 2008
ends
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