Between Heaven and Her

A ‘Technician’ (Majid Shokor), in overalls and a beanie, checks the lighting as the audience takes their seats and La Mama front-of-house conducts the customary raffle door prize.  The house lights dim.  The Technician performs a magic trick with the lighting.  He finds a play text on a chair… and begins to read… and commits himself to the play and thus becomes our ironic Narrator for all that follows. 

He is joined by two accomplished and attractive actors – Katherine Innes and Reece Vella – who give us twelve (or eleven and a bit) variations on desire: from the Garden of Eden, to a movie scene, to the couple who’ve just met, to the couple who need games to spice things up, to the couple who’ve been together too long, to the couple in old age and so on. 

There is a distinct Eastern European feel to this show: whimsical, philosophical, poetic, a touch of world-weary, non-judgmental but sometimes coldly objective.  An apple – the Apple from the Tree of Knowledge – is the rich motif that runs throughout – offered, withheld, cut in two, peeled, chewed, swallowed - and tossed aside.  This is as much a play of ideas as it is a play of the desires that are the sine qua non of life itself.

Twelve scenes, each designated and coloured by the months of the year, each by turns tense, frustrating, surprising, poignant, funny and horrific.  In January, the world has just begun, but so have the power games, miscommunication and thwarted desire.  By November, desire is over – or so the playwright seems to suggest.  Well, the subject is a minefield, anyway, and some might choose to object to the stance the playwright takes on gender roles and much else.  During one horrible scene, in which ‘desire’ has turned poisonous and mad, two members of the audience left the theatre.  But of course it can’t all be light and playful; ‘desire’, or lust, can be, as Shakespeare wrote, ‘perjured, murd’rous, bloody, full of blame, savage, extreme…’

The roles of ‘Man’ and ‘Woman’ require more than skill; they require courage in portraying such naked emotion and vulnerability.  Ms Innes and Mr Vella have that courage and are fully up to the swift changes in mode, mood and persona – teasing, uncertain, angry, desperate.  These are actors to watch.

The performances are guided, no doubt, by director Lech Mackiewicz – an actor and playwright himself.  Mr Mackiewicz and his designer, Lara Week, make inventive use of the whole La Mama space – the doors – all three of them – and the stairs.  ‘Man’ and ‘Woman’ go off stage, out of sight, allowing key moments (love-making, a separation) to be carried by the voices and left to our imagination – while our omniscient, ironic Narrator waits patiently...  

But Mr Shokor and at times Ms Innes and Mr Vella too are almost drowned out by the live musical accompaniment provided by Brighid Mantelli who plays clarinet, flute and accordion.  It is no reflection on her musical skill to wonder how or how much the music actually contributes to the show, dance numbers aside.  Is the music specified by the playwright or is it a directorial addition?  Either way, it could be supportive rather than overwhelming, particularly of the Narrator’s observations and reflections on the scenes.

The narration, after all, is the glue, so to speak, that binds these disparate takes on human relationships and sexuality into a coherent whole.  Mr Shokor, however, an actor of compelling presence, twice nominated for a Green Room Best Actor Award, sometimes lacks clarity and that mars the Narrator’s complex and nuanced little speeches  – a sad loss because, I assume, that these speeches are the voice of the playwright himself. 

Nevertheless, Between Heaven and Her provides an exotic take and salient insight into ‘the mating game’ - a refreshingly different and brave evening of theatre.

Michael Brindley