“a powerful perception of virulent masculinity in a desolate society”
The parable underlying Phil Ormrod’s story of ‘Isaac Came Home From The Mountain’ spotlights the balance of love, acceptance, pride and rejection in male relationships, often clouded by expectations and rarely voiced. Bobby, out of school, needs to find work to appease and impress his father. When he succeeds and his father fails to show the recognition he hopes for, he looks for approval elsewhere and, in his desperation, makes a terrible mistake.
The four actors, perfectly cast, produce a powerful perception of virulent masculinity in a desolate society. Ormrod’s tightly-written script, with its touches of humour, give depth and intrigue to the characters; the rapports ebb and flow as they search for their places in each other’s lives. Charles Furness’ Bobby shields his sensitivity with vulnerable toughness. Keen to do the right thing, but crushed by a grim future, he is angry and dismissive. Only once does he let go in a piercing moment of realisation. His father, John (Guy Porritt), tries to get him to face his responsibilities and earn a living. Torn between his own duties at work and home, he finally yields, as Abraham saved Isaac from sacrifice, and stands by his son. Ian Burfield as Mike, prepared to take Bobby on, has a bullying turn of temper, frightening and imposing in size and sonority. In a game of intimidation and authority, he plays with the insecurities of Bobby and his own son, Chris, portrayed by Kenny Fullwood. He, in turn, defends his territory when Bobby comes looking for work and smoulders with jealousy when his father favours the newcomer.
The harsh sense of raw emotions is impacted by the wonderfully arresting set design by Eleanor Bull, from its forceful main structure to the carefully detailed dust and blades of grass. Ali Hunter’s stunning lighting illuminates the changes of time, place and atmosphere as well as creating dramatic special effects. The sound (Benjamin Grant) interacts with the lighting, marking the different scenes with subtle grittiness.
This is a simple narrative given weight by skilled writing. Carla Kingham shapes the play with varied moods and pace, using every possibility of the set to generate space, action and movement. On the small stage the tension builds and we feel a shadow of discomfort, reflecting the anguish experienced, in particular, by young men in a ruthless world. The evocative creativity of the art design and acutely passionate performances combine for a moving, bitter-sweet evening of theatre.
“too much disparity of genres detracts from a powerful drama”
At a time when families are being forced to remodel, adapting to the shifting face of politics and economics, ‘Reared’ tells of intergenerational conflict and how, in spite of the struggle to balance the weight of the past with the prospect of the future, it has its rewards. Eileen is juggling preparations for a new baby, a mother-in-law with signs of dementia, a headstrong teenage daughter and a husband who seems unaware of the implications of all this. It explores the complexity of close-knit relationships, what is passed down and what is obscured – the told and the untold – and unpicks secrets which shed a new light on situations.
The Irish touch gives a poignancy to the importance of women in the household and the painful yet inevitable moment when the roles are reversed. John Fitzpatrick’s writing brings all these ideas together in a work which is dramatic, funny, sentimental and, occasionally, almost farcical.
The initiative by ‘bold & saucy theatre’ of a female-led company has created a well-balanced cast, each woman illustrating the particular strengths and weaknesses of her age, with sympathetic supporting male characters. Shelley Atkinson as Eileen depicts the fortitude of the ‘sandwich generation’, coping with both parents and children, and skilfully shows her ability to be caring, practical and vulnerable. The sensitive subject of dementia is successfully reflected in Paddy Glynn’s performance as Nora, flitting between moments of confusion and lucidity, clinging on to her matriarchal status. Caitlin, excellently portrayed by Danielle Philips, represents the dilemmas and pressures of the young along with her friend, Colin (Rohan Nedd), who we warm to as he clumsily tries to do the right thing in an entanglement beyond his maturity. Daniel Crossley plays a likeable Stuart who appears distracted from reality, busying himself with useful jobs around the house.
The homely familiarity of the detailed set (Sammy Dowson) and the proximity of the audience to the stage increase the involvement with the actors. Jamie Platt’s lighting design and the sound by Dominic Kennedy add colour to the action, giving a quasi cinematic feel to the changes of scene. Sarah Davey-Hull’s mindful direction produces some intense and touching scenes – Eileen and Caitlin’s moving conversation, Nora’s developing dementia or Colin’s awkward eagerness – but it is difficult to coherently follow through so many threads of a story in ninety minutes.
‘Reared’ alludes to many social issues but the inclusion of such a quantity of relevant material means that we lose the depth of any one narrative. There is an overall sense of unevenness in the script and oddly discordant reactions at some key moments; seeds are sown and picked up later rather than unfolding, certain personal insights come across as light-hearted asides and a couple of build-ups of tension are left in the air. A contrast of emotions is always stimulating in the theatre but too much disparity of genres detracts from a powerful drama.
