The play avoids conventional structure, but did not satisfy me with its alternative. Paul (Marc Baylis) slowly reveals how his world has unravelled, deftly drawing us into his story of success, suspicion, jealousy and conceit as a financial trader. Many possibilities are suggested: is this a suicide’s last confession; is he about to murder his wife; or will he just walk out? We are left to decide and Marc Baylis makes us care and thirst for more of his story. Alex then moves the scene to a hospital where her father is recovering. Garry Cooper plays Father with disturbing intensity, but the story does not bring the audience in. Apparently an innocent victim, he must deal with his shattered memory. The play avoids a denouement, but gives him a final speech which clumsily stresses the weight of the theme by simply repeating “futures” several times, as if we had not realised the significance.
Marc Baylis gives us a compelling portrait of a man in decline. There is nothing showy, but little details add up to a finely crafted performance. Kali Peacock has a difficult role: from silence she has to reach extreme emotion with very little to help her in the script. Garry Cooper slowly reveals another man in despair, struggling to articulate his thought. It is a harrowing portrait as we see him attempt to rebuild his life, with flashes of lucidity. Robin Kirwan shows great concentration as the Doctor, giving focus to Father’s discomfort.
The set is superb: economic, yet illuminating both stories. In the first half, the outsize bed emphasises how Paul is diminished in his world – he has almost shrunk back to child size as his success has dwindled. The shifting lighting subtly re-inforces our journey through those small hours which seem so long. With a few swift changes, the set is transformed to a hospital space, maintaining odd angles which reflect the warped, damaged memory we are sharing.
Paul Higgins has directed a play which initially intrigues, but fails to gel in the second part. It was disappointing when the Doctor was allowed to focus on Alex as she remained alone centre stage – up to that moment of acknowledgement, she could have been a figment of the Father’s damaged imagination, which would add another enticing dimension to the piece. Everything convinces, but the script fails to take us anywhere. It is as if the playwright wrote a storming start but lost the will or determination to develop it to a fulfilling end.
Futures is a production to make you think – both about hidden lives in our insensitive society, and about the shape of playwriting to come.
Derek Benfield
