“This is theatre that moves, that shapes thought, emotion, and compassion. These works are critical to us as a society as we continue to evolve”
Alethea Mouhtouris
4.5 near kisses
Venue : The Substation at QTopia Sydney on Taylor Square
Until 18 April
Every so often you see a jewel of a production that unexpectedly moves you with its exquisite writing and superb performances.
Such is Eden, a story about two teenage girls in a small Tasmanian town where the ugliness of humanity scars its stunning natural beauty. Kit (Karrine Kanaan) and Dan (Lara Lightfoot) spend all their time together, moving in and out of each other’s houses, and marvelling at the river’s beauty, power, and light. When a woman’s body, bound in farm fence wire, is found floating in the river, the girls realise the threat of staying in the town and make plans to run away.
As the teenagers, Kanaan and Lightfoot have captured the shining eyes, fluctuating emotions, and over-large expressive gestures characteristic of that age. When portraying the girls, they fill the small stage with their physicality and light. When they realise their
attraction to each other, the tangible tension electrifies the theatre.
They also play the accompanying characters. Firstly their mothers (one abandoned and trying desperately, pragmatically, to find male support, the other viciously abused by her husband) warn what might be ahead for them: “I’m never getting married, it’s the end of
life!” Then local teenage boys, grotesque in words and actions, who mirror the men who hover too close to the young girls. And there’s Tony, the owner of Poseidon’s Pizza, who is kind and generous with the girls. All these characters are important to Kit and Dan only as they enter their sphere, otherwise it’s just them and the river. It’s a marvellous portrayal of the self-centred nature of teenagerhood. Kanaan and Lightfoot move rapidly and seamlessly from one character to the other, yet through their shift in tone of voice and body language,
it’s never hard to work out who they’re portraying.
Both actors command the stage in equal measure, yet remain distinctive. Kanaan is bold and uses her height and expressive face to drive Kit; she simmers and explodes. In contrast, Lightfoot plays Dan as feisty but with a sense of delicacy and translucence, a master of observation.
There is no doubt where this play is set. It’s quintessentially Australian in language and in landscape. The land is treated with quiet reverence and respect; the prose flows like poetry evoking very clear images of the surroundings, and it’s clear director and playwright Kate
Gaul is viscerally connected to Country. Her love for Kit and Dan is also evident, she has grown these characters with gentle care as a parent for a child. The other characters, though, are portrayed as harsh, chaotic, ugly; their very humanness serves as a direct contrast to the girls. And the threat they face of being different in a small country town riddled with the failures and foibles of humanity lies just beneath the surface.
As a venue, the historic underground Substation is small and very contained, a perfect space for creating the claustrophobic feeling of living in a small town and wanting to escape. This, and the minimalist nature of the staging, means Kanaan and Lightfoot are the sole focus for the duration of the 50-minute play, and there’s no question of their ability to hold the audience’s attention at all times.
This is theatre that moves, that shapes thought, emotion, and compassion. These works are critical to us as a society as we continue to evolve. Get to it.
Alethea Mouhtouris, Theatre Now
Note: Kate Gaul is also a Theatre Now reviewer.
