The depths of the mind
Theatre is such an ephemeral and temporal art form,
that a truly moving experience depends on a whole range of factors
converging at one place and time. This is, not surprisingly, quite
a rare occurrence. But – at least for this reviewer –
those factors all aligned on the opening night of Rabbit Hole
to create one of the more astonishing theatrical encounters of
the year.
I
think the last time I was moved, confounded, astounded and uplifted
to this extent was by Neil Armfield’s amazing Cloudstreet
some years ago. Be warned though, the subject matter of Rabbit
Hole is likely to also make this one of the more wrenching
visits to the theatre you can make. But those courageous enough
to go with the material will find ample rewards.
The play concerns grief and mourning; something
made all the more difficult by the fact that the subject of the
characters’ grief is the death of a child. Rabbit Hole
however transcends any suggestions of TV soap drama to become
a production that will leave audiences gobsmacked.
Acclaimed playwright David Lindsay-Abaire won a
Pulitzer Prize in 2007 for this play, and the quality of the writing
shines through in the QTC’s version. Wisely, director Michael
Futcher wisely leaves the play in its American setting and uses
the playwright’s original words – even if that means
having to have a glossary in the program to aid understanding.
But where the play could have been staged in a minimalist
way, Futcher – again wisely – has decided to make
it an elegant, almost cinematic, experience. The set by Josh McIntosh
is highly inventive and hugely detailed. Lighting designer David
Walters creates some absolutely jaw-dropping moments (one in particular
left shivers up my spine) and Phil Slade creates an aural backdrop
that will leave few unmoved.
Rabbit Hole is also remarkable for Lindsay-Abaire’s
approach to the material. He’s taken a terrible situation,
plonked his characters down in the middle of it, then basically
looks for them to find a way out. This could so easily have been
weepie territory, but that’s never the case. This is an
archetypal example of the difference between emotion and sentimentality.
Lindsay-Abaire gives us plenty of the former, but none of the
latter.
Since
the playwright also counts the Marx Brothers among his influences,
there’s a surprising amount of humour in the play. Much
of this is delivered via the sister and mother of the central
character, and the play is all the stronger for it.
Lindsay-Abaire has stated that his plays “tend
to be peopled with outsiders in search of clarity”. His
“outsiders” here are Becca – played with intensity
and intelligence by Helen Howard – and her husband Howie,
who’s given more restraint but a combustible volatility
by Eugene Gilfedder. While at first blush it might seem that they’re
hardly “outsiders” (they’re white, middle class
and living in a nice house in suburban Westchester outside New
York), it soon emerges that they indeed are. And more than just
outsiders, they’re virtually isolated from what most of
us regard as the “real” world.
Carol Burns brings a delightful dottiness to Becca’s
mother Nat; while Zoe Houghton gives Becca’s unconventional
sister Izzy. Young performer Tim Dashwood makes a good fist of
the small but pivotal role of Jason.
Rabbit Hole represents a bold move by the
QTC, bringing the Pulitzer Prize winner to Australian stages only
a year after its win (normally we’d be waiting years) –
but it is in every sense worth it. This won’t be the easiest,
the funniest or the lightest play you’ll see this year;
but it will be the most extraordinary.
David Edwards
