Presented by The Melbourne Theatre Company
Sumner Theatre, Southbank
Reviewed on October 14, 2010
Do Not Disturb (any further).
Seven people at life’s cross road, collide head first in a drab two star hotel lobby on the far side of town. The question is, has fate purposely brought them together, and if so, will she place them on the track to despair or happiness? Only time, an erratic elevator, a pair of curious goldfish, and some burnt eggs on toast will tell.
Last thing I remember, I was
Running for the door
I had to find the passage back
To the place I was before
’relax,’ said the night man,
We are programmed to receive.
You can checkout any time you like,
But you can never leave!
Hotel California, The Eagles
The act of getting from ‘point a’ to ‘point b’ appears to serve little function. If movies, novels, and plays are simply life, edited, there is a world of this in between state that is rarely explored.
Films like Jason Reitman’s Up In The Air, Sofia Coppola’s Lost In Translation, and Alan Rudolph’s Choose Me look at the limbo of our lives. These small moments alone are fleeting, but in the greater scheme of things, have more impact that we realise.
The people we strike up conversations with to pass time, whether lining up at the airport check – in counter, or waiting to be served in a restaurant, sometimes say more about us because our guard is down or we are simply tired from a long day. It is in this state when at our most raw, the truth somehow slips out.
Australian playwright, Daniel Keene, is known for his exploration of the human condition (whether in historical or contemporary context), in works such as All Souls, Terminus, Half and Half, Low Silent Partner, The Night Watchman, An Hour Before My Brother Dies, Scissors Paper Rock, and The Architect’s Walk.
Life Without Me, commissioned almost three years ago, is his first production staged by the MTC. Thanks to taut direction by Peter Evans, we are at one with his cast of skilled actors and their interlocking stories from the outset.
What appears to jump – start as an English farce in the style of Philip King’s classic, See How They Run, or an episode of the manic Brit-com, Fawlty Towers, Life Without Me becomes a much more profound experience as the play builds.
Rubber – legged Robert Menzies as Nigel, the hotel’s clerk, stands his ground against all takers. We eventually understand why. But for the time being there is no argument he will back down from, even if it means losing precious customers in the process.
John, (Greg Stone) a man experiencing the worst attack of mid – life panic, is Nigel’s first target. Thrown inside by a thunderous happenstance, the two of them argue over the correct way of signing the hotel registry. This hilarious tug of war evokes the same frustration as Abbott and Costello’s infamous, ‘Who’s On First’ radio routine. Not surprisingly, and perhaps drawing on our own experience with less than helpful hospitality, their back and forth leaves the audience in stitches.
The next victim to experience Nigel’s wrath is Roy Williams, (Brian Lipson) a travelling bed linen salesmen here to meet with the female owner. He is equally unsuccessful; there is no appointment on record. Roy ends up glued to the spot, doubtfully swaying under the weight of his heavy suitcases.
Alice Jarvie (Deirdre Rubenstein) is already a guest, but is driven half crazy by a plant in her room that she thinks is poisonous and trying to kill her.
With each new character, frustration to the point of despair is turned up a notch. The next guests, blissful newlyweds Ellen (Kristina Brew) and Tom (Benedict Hardie) are quickly thrown into the chaos. When not even they are spared, could this be Jean Paul Sartre’s No Exit, where Hell is truly other people?
The last to arrive is veteran actor, Kerry Walker, as Nigel’s befuddled mother, Mrs Spence, a calm inside the storm.
Like Mother and Son’s Maggie Beare, Mrs Spence’s quirky personality is defined by a charming story she relays to the other guests, where her deceased husband would sneak himself into strangers’ party photos. This he did, simply for the thrill of standing on the periphery of other people’s lives, before being cut out with a pair of scissors. Life must be lived for the moment.
How the characters resolve their collective predicaments is detailed in act two.
Alice and Roy mistake each other for teenage sweethearts, playing through the fantasy to fill a void in each other’s lives. As actual lovebirds, Ellen and Tom never had that true moment of meeting. Together since childhood, they hatch a game of their own. Pretending not to know each other with a view to creating that magical first time, it ends instead in disaster. Their story underlines that what brings us together may ultimately tear us apart.
Flawless set and costume design by Dale Ferguson build on the rich symbolism clear in Keene’s wordplay. Like a hamster’s dynamo, a set of revolving entry doors highlight the energy players sometimes use in their bid to escape. They spin around and around, spat back into the lobby, returning without success.
High above the lobby, black boxes are cut into the proscenium. They represent both balconies and hotel rooms. Here, where emotion is contained, characters either grow or wither. Alice, in particular, under Roy’s spell, blossoms from a confused wreck into a calm, confident rose.Deirdre Rubenstein really grasps Alice’s dramatic metamorphosis and runs with it.
The use of water is a recurring theme, keeping guests indoors during a storm or hypnotised by the aquarium. It can be damning, frightening, and yet, as my guest for the evening pointed out, spiritually cleansing too.
A fish tank in the middle of the lobby becomes a central focus. Each character, in particular Mrs Spence, break form, and become transfixed by the action. “Sometimes all I think I know about myself, is what I have lost”, she muses.
Her son implores her not to knock on the glass, because it will distress the fish. This action is repeated as she leaves the hotel for the final time, waving good-bye to John and Nigel. Together, they have resolved their differences, forming a gentle simpatico, and better for it.
It is at this point we realise within hotel’s four walls, that its guests have each experienced an epiphany. Like the light that explodes at the start of act one, a switch has taken place. It is only until each character faces their fears and the truth about their life, will they be allowed to move on and leave this fluorescent lit purgatory.
See Life Without Me and be richer for the experience. It plays until November 21, 2010.
Image Source: Melbourne Theatre Company