Left - Andrea Irvine. Photo - Ros KavanaghIn this stripped back production by Ireland’s national theatre, the audience are transported into a fantastical world of the dead and the dying, impossible love, and inexplicable violence.
Told through a series of intertwining monologues, the story follows three characters, known simply as ‘A’, ‘B’ and ‘C.’ The monologues criss-cross, veering wildly and loop back upon themselves, and, as the play progresses, the lives of the three characters intersect in unforseen and unpredictable ways.
The characters begin in bleak but familiar territory - loneliness, violence and despair, each looking for love in their own way. An older woman is seeking atonement for her betrayal of her daughter; a lonely younger woman, for reasons which only later become apparent, has all but retreated from the world; an intensely shy young man tries to pick up at a nightclub. But either through accident or design, each of them happen upon their own personal quest, and in the pursuit, their mundane and emotionally numb lives are drawn into a metaphysical world of increasingly heightened sensation.
The sparse set (Jon Bausor) quite literally frames the stage, and we view the performance as through a broken window, with large shards of glass dangling precariously around and above the actors. The three performers, never shift from their own fragment – they do not ‘act out’ the story nor do they interact with each other, but rather address the audience directly. The minimal lighting (Philip Gladwell), is kept at an uncomfortably low level throughout, and only the actor speaking is visible at any given moment.
The entire effect is to deprive our visual senses and heighten our awareness of the language. In the near darkness, writer/director Mark O’Rowe’s muscular urban verse is used to craft a visceral portrait of a hidden world - the audience are enlisted to engage their imagination and to create the images so vividly described for us :- a love sick demon made of 100,000 blushing worms; a woman led to her death by angels; a hapless victim tormented on a train; sex, death and violence.
The actors each give strong performances and their command of the arc and cadence of the play’s poetry is quite complete. Andrea Irvine as ‘A’ gives a thoroughly grounded portrayal of a mother desperate to atone for the mistakes of her younger self. Her final disintegration is quite stunning. Eileen Walsh is excellent as the young woman, and in one of the play’s most sublime passages, lists a flowing stream of her life's memories and laments them as they dissolve. Aidan Kelly has much of the plays darkest humour which he carries off well, and is strong as the shy killer who sells his soul for a beautiful singing voice.
This is a highly accomplished work and an, at times, astonishing piece of writing that nonetheless requires considerable concentration from the audience. But the result is an engaging fantasy for grown up's and a thoroughly enjoyable piece of theatre.
Abbey Theatre
Terminus
Written and Directed by Mark O’Rowe
Venue: The CUB Malthouse, Merlyn Theatre
When: Fri 9 & Sat 10 Oct at 7.30pm
Sat 10 Oct at 2pm
Sun 11 Oct at 5pm
Mon 12 & Tue 13 Oct at 7.30pm
Duration: 1hr 40min no interval
Tickets: Full $45 Groups (8+) $40.50 Concession $33.75 Student $25
Bookings: Ticketmaster 1300 136 166 | www.melbournefestival.com.au | M-Tix (03) 9685 5111 www.m-tix.com.au