Andrew Bovell’s Things I Know To Be True takes as its basis a very simple premise – that of a family where each of the member don’t quite understand each other. This is the basis for most TV shows, films, and plays, and yet Bovell manages to create something quite unique in this play. His control of character and dialogue ensure that, from the opening scene, he has the audience in the palm of his hand.
The play revolves around the Price family – Fran, the strong, often abrasive, matriarch; Bob, the gentle paterfamilias; Pip, the eldest, a career-woman and mother; Mark, the first-born son, something of a cipher to begin with; Ben, the cheeky youngest boy with his mother wrapped around his little finger; and Rosie, the baby, fresh back from a gap year travelling around Europe. Set in Australia, the decision was that the cast would retain their English accents, which works remarkably, as it highlights the universality of the family dynamic. The play is situated in Australia, but honestly, it could be from any country or culture.
The play opens with Rosie’s early return from her travels, broken-hearted from a dalliance with a Spanish lothario, and longing for her family and home where ‘things are the same as when I left and they always will be’. At first we see the family through Rosie’s eyes – a solid unit with everyone equally beloved, but as the play progresses, layer upon layer of their relationships are exposed. We realise that nothing is quite as it seems on the surface. The action can feel a little melodramatic from time to time, but the writing is so good, you can’t help but forgive it that.
All the comments about Things I Know To Be True mention how funny it is. As we watched the play, there were waves of laughter across the audience at the recognition of certain family traits and dynamics – we all felt Pip’s annoyance that Ben was still bringing his shirts home to be washed by their mother; everyone recognised the ‘O, but I could have picked you up from the airport’ and ‘I would make you a coffee, but I don’t know how to use that machine’. However, a lot of bitterness and sadness underlies the comedy and by the end of the play, I’m not the only person who’s sniffling.
This is a rather special play – go with your family and be thankful for your own screwed-up family and their unique set of dynamics. ★★★★☆ @BookingAround 5th October 2016
