|
|
|
|
Articles
|
|
|
Articles |
Five Kinds of SilenceBy Shelagh Stephenson Five Kinds of Silence begins with a murder, but this is no whodunit, for we see the killers and the killing. Nor is it a "why did they do it?" for we know from the first speech that the victim, Billy, is a wife-beater and it is soon revealed that he physically and sexually abused his two daughters, Janet and Susan, for a period of decades, not just years. What the play does is to look at the effects on the abused and, through a series of set piece speeches (one immediately before and the others after death), the motivation of the abuser. As such it works well, with the effects on the two daughters gradually revealed through a series of short scenes with each other, with the mother and, in particular, with police, lawyers and psychiatrists. Bit by bit the story of the abuse unfolds and little by little we see into the minds of Janet (Lizzy McInnery) and Susan (Gina McKee). In counterpoint, standing outside of the action, sometimes literally for he stands outsdie the window looking in or walks high above the set, Billy, the father (Tim Pigott-Smith), gives his point of view in language which, like that of the Greek chorus which his part so resembles, is poetic and very different from the day-to-day, almost trite language of the living. That use of the word "trite" is not meant as a criticism: the growth of the girls (emotionally and intellectually) is, to a considerable degree, stunted by their experiences. They don't have the language to express their feelings and what they do say is almost cliché: "He's our father, so we loved him." The mother even tries to take the blame herself but, confronted by the forensic evidence, soon tacitly admits to lying. How many times have we seen that in TV police shows? As one would expect of a cast of this calibre, the performances leave nothing to be desired. Pigott-Smith broods over the whole play physically (we first see him as a disembodied head floating high above the stage) and emotionally, and conveys with great clarity the twisted love which can inflict pain and suffering on the loved ones. As he talks of his own childhood, when he was the abused, we feel his anguish and can follow clearly the way in which he turns from the abused to the abuser. Both McInnery and McKee convince totally as the abused daughters, each conforming to what the father expected of them but now, after his death, beginning painfully to establish themselves as individuals. Linda Bassett's Mary (the mother) (that can't be a deliberate juxtaposition of name and persona, surely?) is suitably downtrodden but, with the hopes and memories of the past contrasting so starkly with the actuality of her life, is just starting to reclaim her self-respect and rebuld herself as an individual, whilst Dione Inman and Gary Whitaker provide sterling support in a number of different parts, each well differentiated from the other. The music of Barrington Pheloung (he of the Morse signature tune, as well as a host of other theatre, TV and film musical credits, including the original score for Hilary and Jackie, which was nominated for a BAFTA Best Original Score) unobtrusively but firmly underlines the emotional content of the play. But I have to admit that, in spite of so much that is positive, I found the play ultimately unsatisfying. Although it is well written, excellently performed with a well-designed set and lighting (although why it was felt necessary constantly to highlight the three identical red coats hanging on the back wall escapes me: a bit too much like shoving symbolism down our throats, I think), it lacked real dramatic tension. Not only was there nothing unexpected (after the initial murder), there was not even any sense that the unexpected might happen. Even the dead father's instructions to his daughter not to reveal the sexual abuse did not raise the emotional temperature, for it was already obvious that, try as he might, there was nothing he could do to alter events in the world of the living. As an audience we shared with the minor characters - the lawyers, the police officers, the psychiatrists - a deep compassion for these three women, but that is all. I wanted something more. I wanted the play to grab me by the throat, but it didn't, and so I left the theatre feeling that I had seen a near miss. This review is based on the last night of the play's previews: it opened officially the following evening, Friday 2nd June. It is scheduled to run until 8th July. Dolly West's Kitchen Articles Indices:
|
|
|