Salt Meets Wound

By Derek - 14th May 2007

This is a very big, quality production but an overblown play. By spanning so much time and geography in an effort to make his point over terrorism, Tom Morton-Smith includes so much material that the effect is dulled. The first scene is redundant, indeed it sets up confusion for the second – Dylan sets off to stay with his sister, yet we next see him enter his ex’s flat, their relationship only becomes clear later. If writer and director are trying to add layers, it is counterproductive as this relationship is at the core of the play.

The inclusion of so many previous 9/11 events fails to illuminate the story, and echoes Dylan’s character in indulgent “look at how much I know” writing. There are annoying elements to the writing which could have been modified in production. We are teased to know why the Doctor has such interest in the girl in the Plague scene – what is their prior relationship? This is spoilt when he asks her name and my response was – why would he have so much concern? Characters spend much time telling every detail of events rather than showing us, which produces unrealistic dialogue, and hinders our ability to believe these characters have an existence outside the play. The writer has great material for a novel, but needs to shape it more carefully to achieve a satisfying play.

Given such doubts about the material, Paul Robinson directs with flair and achieves many moments of beauty. I was never tempted to clock-watch, and the production builds to a bleak climax. However, the cast need to avoid casting shadows from offstage during the last scene – again my attention was diverted as the light flickered, leading me to expect that someone was about to enter to give the denouement another twist.

For a London boy, Damian O’Hare had many vagaries of accent which again diverted my thoughts – traces of Irish, Welsh, Scandinavian? This left me aware of the actor more than the character.

Catherine Cusack maintained a flawless mix of complexities in her portrayal of Nicola. She kept the emotional flow on a relentless course until the bitter end.

The cast worked well with a mix of nationalities and languages to present. Each was credible and subtly differentiated, with two notable portrayals of drunkenness.

Ellen Sheean gave an exemplary model of how to shift from a foreign language into an English dialect, maintaining local character while inviting us into her story. Indeed, each of her characters was a delight, offering wide variety and some rare humour.

Emilio Doorgasingh was her equal for the men. From his enthusiastic English scholar, (they have never left me alone so easily), to threatening tribal leader, he gave each character depth and warmth – and he knows how to inhabit a costume, not just wear it!

It is an indictment of the play that many of the most beautiful dramatic moments came in the scene changes, where characters flowed past each other to re-arrange the set, yet made these necessities pertinent to the story.

Max Jones offers a deceptively versatile set and sumptuous costumes which allowed the audience to easily keep track of time and place.

Stunning production quality lifts a flawed, over-eager play, where references to terrorism were slapped in our faces time and again. Each metaphor seemed spelt out to show its literal origin. It meant I spent much time diverted by annoyances which stopped me from being drawn into the humanity of the story.

Paul Robinson and Theatre 503 are to be commended for tackling such an ambitious play and succeed in presenting an evening rich in delights, if tinged with irritation at the writing.

Watch out for the resurrection of the goldfish!

Derek Benfield