A rare return to theatrical virtues
Lihan Mendis’ directorial debut on the October 12 at the Punchi theatre was a clement combination of good sense, honesty and a rare return to old theatrical virtues.
Scenes from the play
Good sense in the choice of script, meaty enough in its minutiae, without being overly ambitious in scope, good sense in the choice of its small caste of two very good actors and the ideal space for intimate theatre. Having the under- appreciated wizardry of Ryan Holsinger on lights never goes amiss either.
“Gruesome Playground Injuries “consists of 8 scene from childhood to middle-age, in the binary orbit of Kayleen and Doug, two emotionally and physically damaged and self-destructive middle-Americans whose inability to articulate their needs for each other sends their lives awry. Not being a particular fan of indulgent soul-searching American sentimentality, this reviewer was slightly apprehensive at the start. Rajiv Joseph’s script was slightly uneven – with shallows alongside moments of psychological depth. Though in fairness the switching back and forth in the timeline worked well in heightening the poignancy of inevitability.
Kayleen, possibly bulimic, self-harms with blades- in the privacy of her own space. Doug’s self-harm is more public, dramatic and devious in that it passes off as accident prone craziness such as cycling off the roof of the school or blowing his eye out lighting firecrackers. Drawn to each other with inarticulate absorption, the play is constructed around a series of post crisis meeting between the two – in hospitals, care homes, funeral parlors.
There was a refreshing honesty that pervaded the performance, in the actors changing costume on stage, the uninhibited indeterminate friend zone physical intimacy between the characters brought out so well by the actors – the scrupulous effort that went into grappling with that slippery thing of character.
The set, unfussy, consisted of a bare stage and two trolleys. One gets the sense in Mendis that is a craftsman, thoughtfully testing himself and testing the waters. Which he does with sure footed economy.
Imani Perera as Kayleen and Shanaka Amarasinghe as Doug, combined rather well in their roles. The strength and intensity of the latter counterpointing the nuanced complexity and depth of the former – and at their best moments completely lost in their characters. Which harkens to the third point of appreciation of the evening – the old virtues – the return to the lost art of character acting in English theatre. That definitive focus on ‘nailing a part’, that dangerous and rewarding strategy that does away with the familiar tricks of the theatre, the smoke and mirrors of the trade that deflect the shortcomings of actors. It is a giddy thing when it works. At their least, when their characters eluded them momentarily, much of it through a shoddiness in the script, Perera and Amarasinghe were two actors caught on in the unforgiving stage lights, clumsy in body, uneasy warts and all. At their best they reached heights of searing pathos and intensity.
That Mendis chose this approach indicates a certain courage and commitment to his craft and that augers well –at least from the ideological viewpoint of this reviewer.
In recent years the drift has been away from the playwright and the actor towards the director who pursues a singular centralized artistic vision; where actors have been reduced to incidentals or indicators, signifying a thing or an idea or a situation; where the development of character, so central to the classical tenets of theatre, has been all too easily dispensed with, together with the written text. This BLT (Broken Leg Theatre – not bacon, lettuce and tomato) production restores that balance in favour of the old virtues in the best and most satisfying way.