The Mesh

I have profound respect and admiration for Red Stitch, and frequently indulge in superlatives for their productions. However, when a company claims a play is “a haunting and timely allegory filled with dancing, original songs and a rich musical score” it needs to be true – and unfortunately it isn’t – at least not for me and a large number of the audience around me. The problem seems to be that, whilst the acting is of the quality we expect, the surreal group Arthur (of which director Paige Rattray is one half) and the playwright Elise Hearst have not delivered anything of the usual high standard presented by this company.

The play, ostensibly inspired by the playwright’s own immigrant grandparents, concerns two Austrian Jewish Couples – Lotte and Max, and Wolf and Clara – who are anxiously awaiting citizenship and acceptance in their new country. To kill the time they throw costume parties, whilst growing increasingly paranoid about the two “suits” (government agents) who appear to be watching their every move. The opportunities are there for insight, poignancy, and genuine emotional connection. They are there – but they are never realised, even within the black humour which engages us infrequently. All of those things can, and should, still be explored within the paradigm of surreal or absurdist theatre. The “rich musical score” is un-exciting, and the songs add little in depth to the allegory. The play feels both under-written and under-developed, and without subtext. Rough, but not raw, it is also without edge – and edge is one of Red Stitch’s trademarks. Given the nature of the four characters and their background, it’s not unreasonable to expect sophistication balanced on a razor’s edge. These people are aliens, strangers in a strange land, banality is the last quality I would expect them to bring with them from Europe (along with some very clunky exposition of the “remember when we…” kind).

Olga Makeeva and Tom Dent are extremely funny as the two suits, Makeeva in particular finding every possible comic nuance. Rosie Lockhart and Ella Caldwell are excellent as the two women, despite the shortcomings of the script. Nick Masters and Kevin Kiernan-Malloy both have impressive stage presences; though there are times when they seem unsure of what the text requires of them, or what the motivation for a scene is. The whole saw mill scenario is not really explored or explained, particularly since the couples would be in a a migrant hostel (which, if explored, would have added poignancy and dimension to the fancy dress parties).

I am all for new Australian works. But when they must compete with the works of contemporary playwrights like Cat Jones and Sarah Ruhl, then they need to look deep within to discover what they are truly trying to say, and then say it with either dazzling text or eloquent silence.

Coral Drouyn

Images: (top) L-R Kevin Kiernan-Molloy and Rosie Lockhart & (lower) L-R Rosie Lockhart, Tom Dent, Olga Makeeva, Kevin Kiernan-Molloy and Nick Masters. Photographer: Jodie Hutchinson.