Review: Playlist (PYT Fairfield)

Venue: Sydney Opera House (Sydney NSW), May 16 – 19, 2019
Director: Karen Therese
Cast: Mara Knezevic, Tasha O’Brien, Neda Taha, May Tran, Ebube Uba
Images by Daniel Boud

Theatre review
Five young women from Western Sydney take the stage, talking about themselves, driving home the point that their stories are not only valid, they are essential, should we wish to examine our lives as egalitarian Australians. For too long, these voices have been subsumed. Not white enough, not middle class enough, and not masculine enough, they have long been relegated to secondary importance in the way our national identity is construed and represented. This is not about a faded mythology; Ned Kelly, Don Bradman and Crocodile Dundee they are not. In Playlist, we encounter a devised work of theatre, that offers a refreshing and pertinent reflection of who we are, in the here and now. It is about creating a new vision of a future that addresses the social imbalances, and injustices, that have plagued us since European settlement. In Playlist, we see ourselves learning to become unapologetic women, more spice than sugar, able to occupy any space we deem appropriate.

The personalities bond through music and dance. It is a cultural discussion that requires each to talk about heritage. With roots in various continents, they gather to connect with traditions that are unfamiliar, and find commonality in popular music, alongside their shared experience of misogyny. Their bodies contain a multitude of meanings, and in Playlist, intersectionality is explicitly discussed, in words and in movement, to interrogate who we are as women, so that we may form progressive and propulsive intentions, to get us, collectively, somewhere better.

Larissa McGowan’s work as choreographer is invaluable in making the show dynamic and entertaining. She allows the expression of spirit to occur powerfully within structures that look disciplined but that feel simultaneously organic. Director Karen Therese does marvellously to bring cohesion to a diverse group of performers, with disparate styles and individual principles. An inspiring sisterhood is established through the harnessing of both similarity and difference, effective in conveying the possibilities that could arise from unions of this nature.

An extraordinarily well-rehearsed cast takes us through an entirely unpretentious theatrical exploration of a modern feminism, one that is useful today, for all Australians. They are humorous, but also disarmingly earnest with their propositions. There is great honesty on this stage, and as a consequence, we regard all they say with open hearts and minds. An immense energy pervades, physical and soulful, aided by a team of designers that join in on the conspiracy of a political presentation. Lights by Verity Hampson, and sound by Gail Priest and Jasmine Guffond ensure that Playlist makes its point every time, whether it chooses to hit us hard or to persuade gently. Also noteworthy are costumes and set by Zanny Berg, whose contemporary simplicity proves effective in helping us elicit a sense of visual resonance, to reach a deeper understanding of the nuances on display.

As migrant women of colour, we have learned to compromise our true essence, in efforts to survive a system that has us positioned low on its hierarchy of priorities. We have had to set aside our authenticity, in order that we can turn ourselves nonthreatening, and be deemed tolerable by the mainstream. In our maturity, we discover that these sacrifices have paid few dividends, so when Playlist stakes its claim on a self-determined womanhood, we can only respond with joy. These artists show us who they are, and in their revelations, we find answers to our own conundrums.

www.pyt.com.au

Review: Winyanboga Yurringa (Belvoir St Theatre)

Venue: Belvoir St Theatre (Surry Hills NSW), May 4 – 26, 2019
Playwright: Andrea James
Director: Anthea Williams
Cast: Roxanne McDonald, Tuuli Narkle, Angeline Penrith, Tasma Walton, Dalara Williams, Dubs Yunupingu
Images by Brett Boardman

Theatre review
A group of Koori women are in the bush, gathered together for a camping trip on the bank of a great river. In Andrea James’ Winyanboga Yurringa, six city slickers take time off to get in touch with one another, with nature, and with tradition. They are a family, but individuals grow apart, and we watch the effort required, to firm up those bonds again, and to rediscover that which is truly important.

The play begins with a sense of ambiguity, very gradual in the way it divulges its raison d’être. The playwright insists that the audience too, takes time off from our hustle and bustle, to fall into a plot that is languid, perhaps slightly disorientating, but trusting that the journey will ultimately be a rewarding one. When its climax arrives, we are surprised by the depth of its poignancy.

Director Anthea Williams’ approach is not obviously sentimental, but she catches us unawares with a quiet power, to deliver a moving work about our Australian heritage. The show communicates differently to people of varying backgrounds, but it is evident that whether or not one is indigenous to this land, Winyanboga Yurringa says a lot that is meaningful about our relationship with it.

Lights by Verity Hampson emanate a disarming warmth, and along with Isabel Hudson’s evocative set design, the familiarity of our landscape is intuitively established on this stage. It is a romantic vision, perfectly partnered by music and sound design from Steve Francis and Brendon Boney, who are called upon to introduce a dimension of melancholic soulfulness to the production. The cast is uniformly accomplished, with Roxanne McDonald particularly impressive as Neecy, the maternal figure through which the play dispenses all its wisdom. McDonald is a sublime performer, with a potency and an intricacy to her style that has us enthralled and firmly won over.

In Winyanboga Yurringa we are reminded that there is so much to love about this place we call home. Regardless of our sins, this terra is and always will be divine; we can cause harm to it, and to one another, but it is the human race that will ultimately and certainly face extinction, before the earth can ever succumb. On Aboriginal land, it is Aboriginal knowledge that is our surest hope for sustainability, yet those voices are routinely subdued and trivialised, in a colonised culture that refuses to listen to solutions that exist right on our doorstep. The characters in Winyanboga Yurringa are the eponymous women of the sun, but they will only shine their light when invited. If we choose to dwell in darkness, the price is ours to pay.

www.belvoir.com.au

Review: Small Mouth Sounds (Darlinghurst Theatre Company)

Venue: Eternity Playhouse (Darlinghurst NSW), May 3 – 26, 2019
Playwright: Bess Wohl
Director: Jo Turner
Cast: Amber McMahon, Sharon Millerchip, Yalin Ozucelik, Jane Phegan, Justin Smith, Dorje Swallow, Jo Turner
Images by Robert Catto

Theatre review
The story takes place at one of those spiritual retreats, where people spend days not talking, trying to access a state of deep meditation. Six characters in Bess Wohl’s Small Mouth Sounds gather at one such facility, each with their own set of problems, seeking prodigious revelations that could mean an instant moment of salvation, to release them from considerable pain. These personal tragedies, with all their human vulnerability and desperation, form the basis of Wohl’s comedy. Cynical but also honest, the play is distinctive for its scant dialogue, relying instead on actors’ physical capacities to chart a journey, through their amusing presentation of sequences that alternate between absurd and meaningful.

The show is often funny, always intriguing with its creative renderings of a unique theatrical concept. A clever cast works exhaustively for our entertainment, offering up personalities that are endearing, familiar and believable. While a cohesive team, each performer delivers their own memorable nuances, for a result that is surprisingly textured. Slightly less effective is Jo Turner’s voice playing the part of the unseen Guru, perhaps a tinge too obvious with his humour. As director, Turner’s enthusiasm is more well placed. There is an effervescence to the production that appeals, even if it does take some time to turn persuasive. Early sections have a tendency to feel forced, but our engagement improves incrementally over time, and when it wins us over, Small Mouth Sounds proves an enjoyable ride.

Jeremy Allen’s set and Jasmine Rizk’s lights make for a visually vibrant staging, but it is Tegan Nicholls’ work as sound designer and composer that truly impresses. In the absence of the usual voices that occupy our auditory attention, Nicholls fills ninety minutes with an intricate mix of sounds from nature, as well as an assortment of music and effects, to help manufacture a rich and magical experience of theatre. Our imagination is guided by her detailed ear, for subconscious manipulations that take us through a gamut of emotional responses.

The seekers in Small Mouth Sounds have big issues to wrestle with, but there is little poignancy to be found in their respective narratives. No great transformations occur as a result of their fleeting commitment in the countryside. It is a realistic conclusion to the tale, one that can feel somewhat empty, although its insistent refusal of a happy ending in the form of outlandish miracles, is admirable. There is great value in keeping silent and looking inward, but to expect enlightenment in an instant, is naive. When we hope to heal, we think about returning to an idealistic state of being, before the infliction of damage. It may be however, that all we can ask for, is to be able to move forward, with the minimum of encumbrance, even whilst bearing a soul full of scars.

www.darlinghursttheatre.com

Review: Cat On A Hot Tin Roof (Sydney Theatre Company)

Venue: Roslyn Packer Theatre at Walsh Bay (Sydney NSW), Apr 29 – Jun 8, 2019
Playwright: Tennessee Williams
Director: Kip Williams
Cast: Addison Bourke, Tristan Bowes, Peter Carroll, Harry Greenwood, Emily Harriss, Jye McCallum, Josh McConville, Zahra Newman, Pamela Rabe, Holly Simon, Nikki Shiels, Lila Artemise Tapper, Arie Trajcevski, Hugo Weaving, Anthony Brandon Wong, Jerra Wright-Smith
Images by Daniel Boud

Theatre review
Characters in Tennesse Williams’ Cat On A Hot Tin Roof suffer immense anguish. Regardless of where they happen to reside in the hierarchy of their social order, powerful or powerless, Maggie, Brick and Big Daddy are each unable to escape a torturous existence. A result perhaps of the family’s wealth, or maybe the American deep south in 1950s had truly been indiscriminately stifling, or life is simply unbearable no matter one’s choices and orientations; the beauty of Williams’ play is that it explains little. In its exhaustive excavations of human emotion however, we identify the truths of our beings at their deepest, but Williams leaves us to draw our own conclusions, on the causes of, and the resolutions for, all the pain that inevitably befalls us.

There is a lot that is sublime in director Kip Williams’ vision. A momentary glimpse of sitting Vice President Mike Pence on Brick’s television set, is a powerful suggestion of the play’s timelessness. Oppressive aspects of Western values, rooted in white patriarchy, is the undercurrent disquiet that drives the action. The production manifests a sense of hopelessness appropriate to the playwright’s pessimism, one that is masochistically gratifying, as is typical of classic melodrama, but also undeniably thought-provoking.

Brick and Maggie’s bedroom is sleek and modern in style, with dark colours and hard edges representing a masculine space in which Maggie’s lack of status is evident. Designed by David Fleischer, the stage is visually seductive, but arguably ineffectual with invisible doors, for a play that repeatedly involves itself with notions of intrusion. Stefan Gregory’s music takes its cues from film noir, nostalgically evocative and very pleasurable. Lights by Nick Schlieper are cold, almost menacing in their depiction of emotional torment. The many instances of fireworks in Act II are controversially manufactured, each time overwhelming our senses for several seconds, with their cacophonous, and repetitive, disruptions into Brick and Big Daddy’s long confrontation.

Actor Zahra Newman is entirely splendid as Maggie, dejected but determined, a broken woman hanging on to the little that she has, to turn a living hell into something coherent. Newman’s extraordinary instinct and artistic inventiveness, along with an uncompromising vigour, make Act I of Cat On A Hot Tin Roof a personal tour de force that has us hopelessly exhilarated. Big Daddy is masterfully performed by Hugo Weaving, who although brings to the role nothing that is unexpected, demonstrates his unparalleled stage presence and a searing conviction that absolutely captivates. The exaggerated theatricality he employs is riveting, with a psychological accuracy that allows us to perceive complicated dimensions of human nature, as we luxuriate in the sumptuousness of his delivery. Also very resonant, is Harry Greenwood as Brick, who overcomes his physical dissimilarity to the character, for a convincing portrayal of a defeated man who retreats into self-abuse. Greenwood’s approach is restrained by comparison, but he adds dynamism and texture to how the story is conveyed, on what is often a very loud stage.

Brick’s indulgence in alcoholism looks as though he is willing himself to die. Maggie on the other hand, who has much less to live for, can be seen maniacally scrambling for survival at every moment. Those are the extremes of how we can be, when facing the worst. The people in Cat On A Hot Tin Roof are all left to their own devices. Although under one roof, this is a family whose bonds are weak, with relationships built on mendacious foundations (the word “mendacity” is mentioned multiple times). Unable to locate anything honest and real, what they have can only feel empty; distracted by material riches, it is loneliness that is left unnoticed and festering. We see no love in this household, and realise that no peace or happiness could ever come their way.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au

Review: Sensitive Guys (Cross Pollinate Productions)

Venue: Kings Cross Theatre (Kings Cross NSW), Apr 30 – May 11, 2019
Playwright: MJ Kaufman
Director: Blazey Best
Cast: Natasha Cheng, Nancy Denis, Alex Malone, Shell McKenzie, Samm Ward
Images by Clare Hawley
Theatre review
We meet two small groups of students at an American college. One is a Men’s Peer Education Group, and the other a Survivor Support Group comprised of women victims of sexual assault. MJ Kaufman’s 2018 play Sensitive Guys looks at young men grappling with sexual politics, at a time when boundaries seem to be shifting, as the traditionally subjugated learn to push back against injustices of many kinds. In the story are what we might term woke men, but we discover that thoughts and actions do not necessarily correspond, for those who claim to know better. There is excellent humour in Kaufman’s writing, and although didactic in nature, its clarity of intention makes for a political work that feels immediate and digestible.

It is a passionate production, cohesively designed by an efficacious team of creatives, to facilitate a simple depiction of contemporary concerns. Directed by Blazey Best, the show offers an accurate representation of our hopes and anxieties as they stand today, in relation to the development of discussions around sexual misconduct. The show is a consolidation and reiteration of recent ideas from the Twitterverse, no longer fresh but still pertinent. An excellent ensemble of five actors deliver a well-rehearsed performance, earnest but also comical, able to keep us amused as they take on the responsibility of expounding some valuable lessons.

The young men in Sensitive Guys have much to unlearn; their understanding of sex and gender is revealed to be more damaging than they had ever imagined. There is a pleasure in watching bad boys flagellate themselves on stage. We want to see them punished, as well as see them become better people. The moral of this story is incredibly basic, but the truth is that we keep imparting to our children, old values that are harmful to many and beneficial to few. How we teach masculinity and femininity must come under scrutiny, as do our reasons for insisting on those binaries.

www.crosspollinate.com.au

Review: Rabbit Hole (Chippen Street Theatre)

Venue: Chippen Street Theatre (Chippendale NSW), Apr 18 – 27, 2019
Playwright: David Lindsay-Abaire
Director: Christie Koppe
Cast: Alison Chambers, Rachel Giddens, Peter-William Jamieson, Imogen Morgan, Sam Wallace

Images by Benjamin Ryan
Theatre review
We meet Becca and Howie just months after the death of their small child. It is disconcerting that Becca seems unable to mourn her loss in a predictable way, and we wonder how her strategy of avoidance is going to pan out. David Lindsay-Abaire’s Rabbit Hole talks about the complex nature of grief, and the different things people have to do, in response to trauma. Positioned next to her husband’s more obvious approach, Becca looks frighteningly detached, refusing to speak of her pain, and only occasionally able to acknowledge the calamity that had befallen her home.

It is an energetic show, with a good amount of dramatic intensity, established by director Christie Koppe, to keep us engaged. Imogen Morgan portrays Becca as an animated personality but also, appropriately, emotionally stunted. The coldness of her exterior is articulated well by Morgan, but the true depths of Becca’s sorrow is often missing as a result. Her denial of her own suffering, is a fundamental ingredient of the story, but when the audience loses contact with that sense of torment, the show accordingly loses its sense of authenticity.

Howie the husband is played by Peter-William Jamieson, who delivers a convincing interpretation of bereavement inside his personal suburban living hell. The charming Alison Chambers is a genuine presence that makes everything she does for Becca’s mother, Nat, seem natural and believable. Rachel Giddens and Sam Wallace are compelling performers, both able to secure our attention whenever their supporting parts take centre stage.

Theatre about trauma is mesmerising. We gawk at people and their suffering, hoping to find salvation for our own unresolved troubles, even if only via a distant proxy. There is something liberating about Rabbit Hole‘s contrasting representations of the mourning experience. We are individuals who navigate the world in different ways, absorbing shocks as we go along, trying to stay in one piece until the inevitable end. It is naive to want to leave this existence unscathed, but to start each morning hopeful for a good day, whatever that may look like, must surely be a reasonable expectation, no matter one’s circumstances.

www.chippenstreet.com | www.facebook.com/RabbitHole2019

Review: Alice In Slasherland (Last One Standing Theatre Company)

Venue: Old Fitzroy Theatre (Woolloomooloo NSW), Apr 18 – May 11, 2019
Playwright: Qui Nguyen
Director: Rachel Kerry
Cast: Justin Amankwah, Jack Angwin, Josh McElroy, Bardiya McKinnon, Mia Morrissey, Laura Murphy, Stella Ye
Images by Robert Catto

Theatre review
Lewis is a regular American teenager, who finds his town suddenly overwhelmed by Lucifer and other spirits of the underworld. With people being slaughtered everywhere, Lewis and his friends have to fight their way to survival. Qui Nguyen’s Alice In Slasherland bears all the hallmarks of a B-grade horror flick; an outlandish storyline, predictable characters and lots of blood and gore, along with a very healthy dose of kitsch and bad taste humour that makes the show more than a little tongue-in-cheek in its references to genre.

The production is messy, but also intentionally trashy. Like every low-budget movie ever made, we can identify all the flaws in this staging of Alice In Slasherland, but its imperfections do not preclude us from enjoying the silly fun that it so passionately delivers. Director Rachel Kerry’s vision for the staging is wonderfully vivid, but her ideas are almost never executed to perfection. The cast is remarkable for being able to embrace the clumsiness of their show, to convey a sense of humour that quite miraculously, works with, or perhaps against, the many technical improficiencies. Alice In Slasherland‘s horror aspects do almost nothing for us, but its comedy is certainly a joy.

Actor Bardiya McKinnonis is a spirited Lewis, appropriately over-the-top with the terror that he depicts. The eponymous Alice is played by Stella Ye, who meets the physical demands of the supernatural being, with a persuasive and dynamic athleticism. Lucifer is a vampy creature, as interpreted by Laura Murphy, whose capacity for camp seems to know no bounds. Her musical theatre abilities prove refreshing in a show that cares little about polish. Justin Amankwah is puppeteer for Edgar the bear, barely two feet tall, but huge in personality, thanks to Amankwah’s beautiful animation and extraordinary voice work.

Depending on one’s own tastes, there is a kind of self-deprecating humour to Alice In Slasherland that can be highly amusing. We vacillate between laughing at it, and laughing with it, trusting that none is expected to take any of this seriously. Over the coming weeks, the production will no doubt lose some of its raw edge, but as long as we can all be encouraged to remain playful for the duration, it would mean a job well done.

www.lastonestandingtheatreco.com | www.redlineproductions.com.au

Review: How To Change The World And Make Bank Doing It (Limelight On Oxford)

Venue: Limelight on Oxford (Darlinghurst NSW), Apr 17 – 27, 2019
Playwright: Michael Becker, Ian Warwick
Director: Michael Becker
Cast: Michael Becker, Skye Beker, Laneikka Denne, Jarryd Dobson, Susan Jordan, Barbara Papathanasopoulos, Dominique Purdue, Dashiell Wyndham
Images by Sam Lax

Theatre review
Eve works as a charity fundraiser, one of those whose job it is to accost you at a shopping centre, and guilt you into donating to one cause or another. She meets people of all kinds, whether patrons or colleagues, all of whom contribute to Eve’s development, as a young woman trying to find her way in the world. Michael Becker and Ian Warwick’s How To Change The World And Make Bank Doing It is however, less a narrative surrounding its protagonist, than it is a collection of anecdotes from that microcosm of retail philanthropy. We see facets of suburbia through the eyes of those who open themselves to all and sundry, in a place where most of us have learned to navigate with blinkers on, ignoring as much as possible, in order to get from point A to point B quickly, and hopefully, leave unscathed.

These are amusing stories, a consolidation of identities, that offers a glimpse into who we are as a community. Becker and Warwick put effort into their representation of what happens behind the scenes at those charity stands, but the plot that results from their rendering of those relationships can feel somewhat perfunctory, never really succeeding at having us invest in any of the play’s main characters. Its observational humour however, is delightful, with an authenticity to its representations that resonates, able to have us engaged for its entirety. Actor Barbara Papathanasopoulos is very funny as Eve, taking every opportunity to create laughter, for which we are deeply appreciative. Also effective with his comedy is Jarryd Dobson as Nico, who brings to the stage some thoroughly enjoyable theatrical flamboyance. All members of the eight-strong cast are accomplished, with Susan Jordan and Laneikka Devine especially noteworthy for playing multiple roles, each one considered and energetic.

Eve wants to do good, but does not really know how. Her conundrum is probably shared by all, although most would scarcely spend more than a fleeting moment to ponder this inordinately big question, of how our efforts for charity can extend beyond the extra dollars we conveniently give away every once in a while. The play also talks about the bad that we do, that necessitates the creation of these organisations in the first place. It makes no sense to invest in undertakings that only seek to undo the effects of our other organisations we know to be harmful. Eve understands that as an individual, her responsibilities extend far beyond the provision of her own sustenance. She leaves us to find a way to attain fulfilment that is honest and virtuous, and we wonder about communities that have no space for her pure intentions.

www.limelightonoxford.com.au

Review: Appropriation (Fledgling Theatre Company)

Venue: Studio Blueprint (Surry Hills NSW), Apr 17 – 27, 2019
Playwright: Paul Gilchrist
Director: Chris Huntly-Turner
Cast: William Bartolo, Damien Carr, Tara Clark, Clay Crighton, Alex Daly, Marcella Franco, Nick O’Regan, Angus Mills, Asalemo Tofete, Alex Rowe, Shannon Ryan, Sonya Kerr

Theatre review
Fortinbras steps into the limelight, now that Hamlet is dead. In Paul Gilchrist’s Appropriation, Fortinbras the Norwegian crown prince, has to work out a strategy so that he can take over Denmark. We learn that the prince likes to think of himself as a ruthless warrior, the type that distrusts the use of words and all things artistic. His wife Gabrielle is on a mission to convince him, that the most efficient way to conquer the Danish is not through violence, but by deception. The narrative of Appropriation is provocative, and passionately conveyed, even if its plot structure is frustratingly tangential. There is philosophy everywhere we look, which can be disorienting, but this is certainly not a piece of writing that can be accused of underestimating its audience.

The production is energised by Chris Huntly-Turner’s exuberant direction. Emotional intensity is built into every scene, with a cast of twelve bringing excellent conviction to the stage. Nick O’Regan is full of vigour as Fortinbras, and convincing as the sixteenth-century brute. Gabrielle is a more complex character, with Sonya Kerr effectively portraying her contradictory qualities, and proving adept at raising the drama to fever pitch, in the play’s final moments when she manipulates the populace into submission. Also noteworthy is the compelling Asalemo Tofete, in the role of Player, refreshingly honest as the persecuted artist fighting for the right to tell stories.

In the era of “alternative facts”, it is no longer expression that comes under fire, but the very notion of truth that is being threatened. We seem to find ourselves in a strange quandary, with consensus trumping evidence, and realities being created out of collective delusion and deliberate ignorance. If we believe that those who shirk their responsibility to tell the truth are not only unpunished, but are in fact rewarded, our social fabric can only deteriorate. We have to be vigilant, not only with the information we receive, but also in the way we defend what we believe to be right. Any way the wind blows, it is always a virtue, to question everything, including and especially the self. It is crucial that we continue to believe in the truth that will set us free, even if the truth seems never to stop shifting.

www.fledglingtheatre.com

Review: A Little Piece Of Ash (Jackrabbit Theatre)

Venue: Kings Cross Theatre (Kings Cross NSW), Apr 16 – 26, 2019
Playwright: Megan Wilding
Director: Megan Wilding
Cast: Toby Blome, Luke Fewster, Alex Malone, Moreblessing Maturure, Stephanie Somerville, Megan Wilding
Images by Clare Hawley

Theatre review
Lily has just moved on to the next realm of existence, or in Indigenous terms, the Dreaming. Her presence in A Little Piece Of Ash, could be termed spiritual, a ghost perhaps, depending on one’s cultural proclivities. She sits in her comfortable armchair at home, like an angel watching over her daughter Jedda, as though little has changed. Megan Wilding’s play depicts death, of the human body, as a transitional extension of life that we must learn to endure, involving excruciating pain but is nonetheless and ultimately sublime. Jedda is unable to see or hear her mother, but in some ways knows that Lily is still here.

As we watch the grieving process take place, we understand it to be a journey toward enlightenment, trusting in an eventual peace that young Jedda will arrive at. Wilding’s writing is sentimental, occasionally humorous, a concentrated examination on the days immediately following Lily’s passing, honest in its inability to see beyond its all-consuming sorrow. Although somewhat repetitive in its expressions, A Little Piece Of Ash‘s sincerity is undeniable. Wilding is also director and actor (as Lily) in the piece, and it is her exceptional charm that really lights up the stage; one would be hard-pressed to conjure a performer more likeable.

Stephanie Somerville plays Jedda, memorable for the intensity that she sustains for the entire ninety-minute duration. It is a powerful portrayal of loss, effective in communicating the young woman’s state of trauma. A strong support cast is on hand to offer some texture to the show, with Alex Malone particularly authentic with the emotions she displays in the role of Ned, who had regarded Lily a mother figure. Design elements of the presentation are rich although not always executed with elegance. There is a raw quality to A Little Piece Of Ash that can at times seem unintentional, but its overall impact is more than adequate.

No matter what we believe happens after a person dies, it is how we as the living, manage deaths, that truly matters. How we honour those who pass, determines the people we are in the here and now. How we remember the deceased, informs the way we conceive of our future. The more we are able to recognise that the past is inextricable from the future, the greater respect we will be able to muster for all that surrounds us. When we imagine the dead to simply cease to exist, or that they progress onto completely disconnected dimensions, we run the risk of causing interminable damage to the present. The soul is eternal, whether or not we are kind to it.

www.jackrabbittheatre.com