The programme has a photograph of two people suspended in a body of water with their heads bobbing above the surface. Given the subject of the play the water could well be amniotic fluid.
Writer, Catherine-Anne Toupin shows a deft hand both in misdirection and in creating a frisson of sexual excitement. The package is darkly comic with a sad and tragic kernel. Apparently suffering some sort of psychotic episode resulting from the loss of a child, Alice keeps ‘hearing’ the cry of a baby. Her husband, Ben, does not of course and whilst solicitous to a degree, leaves her alone in the flat whilst going out to work. The appearance on the scene of their socially incontinent and pushy neighbours from across the hall, suggests a disruption to their lives, which could have a potentially beneficial outcome. Do they hold out the prospect of some kind of therapy – their probing questions, rather as if the playwright were interrogating her characters, suggest they do – or are they a couple of swingers looking for easy meat? The play keeps us guessing.
Director, Michael Boyd, whilst leaving plenty to our imaginations in the seduction scenes, nevertheless nudges them firmly in the right direction whilst continually opening the doors to the play’s alternate readings. Whilst events are decidedly odd, nothing seems forced. The air of social danger hangs over all the interchanges with the, morally provocatively open, intruders. It’s a fine and clever balance, which maintains its poise with excellent and well-judged performances. In the case of Lindsey Campbell, a relative newcomer to our boards, there is the addition of controlled emotional turbulence, which she can swap for a melting sexuality, seemingly at will.
Maureen Beattie, mysteriously colubrine in her seduction, has the great actor’s gift of living her part through the other characters. Each defines and is defined by her, not least her refined roué of a husband (Guy Williams).
Dyfan Dwyfor, apparently the captive voyeur to his parents’ adventurous seductions, turns out to have more tarnished steel in his spine than he initially lets on. As in many a good short story there is a twist in the tail of the play that casts his character in a sharper light whilst jolting the audience’s understanding to a new interpretation.
Sean Biggerstaff as the husband who perhaps in fact isn’t, does not have too much to do, but manages with his allotment to sow enough speculation to explain the character’s weak resolve.
This multi-faceted play packs a lot into its eighty-minute, single act and the translation, by Chris Campbell, from the writer’s native French, is taut with a thoroughly natural feel. ★★★★☆ Graham Wyles 23rd February 2016
The French-Canadian Season concludes with Michel Tremblay’s Forever Yours, Marie-Lou, directed by the Ustinov Studio’s Artistic Director Laurence Boswell (24th March – 30th April).
