Poison

‘Grief’ is a very literary subject – something we will gladly allow to envelop us in a one-on-one with a book or in a dark cinema. It is not a topic we eagerly seek out in live entertainment. And so, it must be a challenge, when presenting a one-act two-hander about deep-seated grief – caused in this case by the loss of a child – to get the balance right and avoid dishing up a slice of soap.

Fortunately, this production of the award-winning Dutch play Poison is in the experienced hands of very talented performers – Elise Greig (who is also producer) and Paul Bishop – who present us instead with a beautifully crafted fine filigree of frustrated feelings, loss and longing. Their confident command means the audience can relax without flinching at the tricky subject matter.

I can’t pretend to love the script – which could suffer from being translated from Dutch to English. Poison has a very European flavour – think Nordic Noir and the films of Austrian director, Michael Haneke. However, this production captures the style necessary to fully embrace the strange iciness of the piece – aptly creating a superbly cool piece of indie theatre.

The dialogue is repetitive – which is sometimes frustratingly Pinteresque – but echoes the loops of ‘what if’ that must spin in the heads of people who have been through such a loss. The characters constantly correct themselves and each other, grappling for just the right words to avoid hurt and conflict at a time when, of course, there are no words to adequately assuage the situation.

The sparse language can also be powerful. When Bishop’s character blandly announces, “Did you know I was writing a book?” we don’t need to hear much more to palpably experience the gamut of pain and emotion that Greig’s character feels at this seemingly simple string of words.

The circular stage design and agitated musical score also reflect the rising tide of toxicity that threatens to drown this couple if they can’t find safe ground to survive.

Director Catarina Hebbard ensures that enough humour is extracted from the script to let the audience in and release the tension that builds with the uncomfortable encounter of estranged characters. But it is ultimately the excellence of the performers that drives the piece and ensures that the characters’ progression is satisfying enough (in one act) to leave us feeling a haunted sympathy for their plight, and a warm hope for their future.

Beth Keehn