I’m always encouraged and delighted when a writer finds some fresh way of getting their ideas across, some novel way to use the empty space and offer the patient audience a new key to somebody else’s world. Alys Metcalf’s new offering is a stride in the right direction.
The scene is a small riverside jetty where Jo, a writer and recovering cancer patient, is trying to teach herself to fish. Also wanting to use the same little stretch of waterside is Mark, who has brought along his mat in order to practice some Tai Chi. After a little predictable and slightly stilted exchange about territory, identity and security, the two develop a bit of relationship and the patient Mark offers some advice on putting a rod together – Jo it seems can’t even do that.
Intruding on the scene, as it were in a different time/space dimension is Huw, who carries on a one sided conversation with an invisible character. This is achieved by a ‘freeze frame’ technique, supported, as is often the case, by a shift in the lighting. So far so good, if a little tried and tested. Where the writer puts on her skates and takes our imaginations on a little excursion is when she takes us into the cool depths of the river and introduces us to One and Two, respectively a trout and a goldfish, who are swimming a short fly-cast away, just off the jetty.
Freed of the self-imposed constraints of real people the writer’s language changes gear (perhaps half a gear) and the road or rather the river opens up before her with the promise of comedy and metaphor tripping over each other for attention. Both writer and director seemed a little reluctant to make the most of the exciting opportunity and the fish remain stubbornly grounded. I sensed a conviction in need of a little more courage. If the fish were intended as a metaphor rather than the fruits of Jo’s imagination, I’m afraid the waters were a little too turbid for me to discern.
It turned out that Jo was the subject of Huw’s one-sided conversation and that she had sadly succumbed to her illness.
The cast, Michael Palmer (Mark/One), Lizzie Stables (Jo) and Matt Tait (Huw/Two) all gave as much as could be expected from a slightly hobbled script and tentative direction. Yet one could see behind the given into a possibility of something hinting at the exceptional for the want of a little more self-belief. ★★★☆☆ Graham Wyles 9th February 2016
