Julie Forsyth narrates the Apocalypse in Caryl Churchill's Escaped Alone Photo: Jodie Hutchinson |
Three women sit in a backyard, empty tea cups on the lawn by
their feet, when a fourth woman – a neighbour, but an interloper – arrives and
tries to fit in. It’s a Saturday afternoon ritual for these three ladies, who
have known each other for years, talking about their favourite television
shows, shops on the local high street, the weather, their families and parallel
universes. It’s comfortable and mundane and there’s something scratching under
the surface of their suburban lives, but they aren’t ready to acknowledge it
yet.
Playing at just under an hour, Caryl Churchill’s play has a
lot to say in an unconventional way – though not entirely surprising, if you’ve
seen other works by her. This one felt very similar to her play Far Away, both engaging in its flights
of surreality and sometimes maddeningly obtuse. The text does not allow the
actors an easy time of it; the backyard discussions are poetic, not realistic
and they demand a specific kind of rhythm.
Director Jenny Kemp, whose magnificent production of Top Girls at MTC in 2012 is something I
still talk about, keeps the four actors perched on their cane chairs, only
rotating them between scenes. It suggests, simply, ongoing conversations over
weeks and months, but frustrates with the image being so static. The recurring blackouts
and blinding lights used to disorient the audience quickly feels monotonous.
Each character is allowed their moment to shine in a
soliloquy of their own, unearthing something troubling that they might not be
truly honest about to their friends. These are the moments where the poetry of
Churchill’s language really shines; much of the rest of the production suffers
from very mannered performances.
Julie Forsyth is the stand-out on this stage – and in front
of it, as the interloper with an inarticulate rage and as the narrator of an
increasingly bizarre Apocalypse. Each time she interjects or is
front-and-centre, I was captivated or amused or repulsed in a way that was
missing from the rest of the show.
Something is happening out in the world that these
privileged women seem to be protected from, left alone to debate minutiae while
the world collapses around them. Perhaps they are not ignoring the end of the
world itself, but they seem to be missing the warning signs.
Escaped Alone was
first performed in 2016 and even though it was before the Brexit vote happened,
this feels like a potent commentary on a class of people afraid of people
climbing over their fences or finding their way through. It’s not even critical
so much of these women, but of a society that affords them the luxury of
worrying about each other, without really worrying about anyone else.
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