British in-yer-face darling Philip Ridley tends to attract the best and the worst in young theatremakers. His violent, provocative plays cater to those who see straight to the emotional complexities at their core, as well as those merely seeking notoriety.
There are definitely moments of the latter in Mad March Hare Theatre Company’s production, but director Claudia Barrie’s focus on social dynamics makes exploring the belly of this beast an enticing proposition.
Two young boys pick through the trash in search of monsters in an abandoned British car factory. Elsewhere in the building, an older couple engage in a torrid affair. As the timeline shifts and changes, two families are thrust together and torn apart from the inside by the changing landscape of their hometown Draylingstowe, and a distant war that has claimed one of their own.
The pace of revelation within the text is alarming – around every corner is a new and darker secret – but the simplicity of Benjamin Brockman’s set and the clarity of the text keep the production focused. Harsh, solid colour palettes dominate and accentuate the many shifts back and forth through history, and dictate the tone of each sequence.
Barrie has assembled an excellent cast, and with the exception of a few, their accent work is exemplary. (Why accurate accents, or indeed such an emphatically British play, are relevant to the Australian stage is another question.) Best mates Ryan (Josh Anderson) and Jack (Liam Nunan) are the quintessential Ridley brothers – at once cruel and incredibly tender, and both extraordinarily passionate performers. The arcs of grieving mother Lyn (Libby Fleming), opportunistic carnie Gordy (Andrew Johnston) and the morally disgusting but captivating Evie (Rhonda Doyle) are infused with life and pathos. Joseph Del Re’s Alec is cut of a different cloth, and too furious to truly connect with, though he affects PTSD admirably.
There are scenes within that fall entirely flat, partly owing to the immaturity of the language when played to offend, and scenes where expectations established in the first half rob the second half of their gravity. But this is an impactful experience, grounded in a deep cynicism; one in which hope is as alien as the mysterious lights that float over the wastes of Draylingstowe.
If you can pierce the enveloping darkness, there’s bleak humour and true warmth to be found at the heart of this long and painful journey.
3.5/5 stars
Shivered is playing at PACT Theatre until Saturday May 30.
