The Idea of America

What: The Idea of America
Where: Tapac
Price: $30*
When: 10-14 November
Cast: Michele Hine, Isla Adamson, Chelsie Preston-Crayford, Andrew Ford, Joel Herbert, Harry McNaughton.
Writer/Director: Sam Shore

NANCY SAYS:

If you’ve ever stumbled in on a private argument between two lovers, a family dispute or intimate liaison, you’ll be familiar with that awkward feeling of having seen too much – and that peculiar guilt that comes as your interest is piqued. Prepare for that feeling to stay with you throughout most of Sam Shore’s feature-length play. Except this time you’re explicitly invited to witness domestic dramas unfold.

The play opens with a lover’s quarrel, acted with disarming intensity that sets the tone for 90 minutes of highly charged dialogue. The tension is punctuated by charming, funny and occasionally heart-wrenching monologues from the histrionic Jude, a failed actress suffering from dementia. For such a sad and sorry character (each of her children suffers from her neglect or alcoholism-related deterioration) Michele Hine plays the role with such sensitivity and grace that you’d need a heart of stone to remain unmoved.

The same can be said for the other characters, who have little in the way of redeeming qualities. But the insightful story connects us to each of them at their most humiliating and vulnerable moments. The Tapac theatre, a relatively small space, heightens the feeling of intimacy of watching characters reel from endless humiliations of being cheated on, broken up with, caught wallowing in self pity or confessing their sexual blunders. No-holds-barred acting from the exceptional cast provides a vivid insight into a family torn apart by grievances and disappointments.

But for a play dealing with adult themes and heavy subject matter, a thread of well-timed humour keeps the emotion from spilling into melodrama. But judging from some audience reactions, it may be wise to bring a shoulder to cry on – just in case.

As Sam Shore seems to have deduced, the idea of America might be an unattainable fantasy, and he certainly did a great job narrating the bitterness of life’s disappointments. But unlike the American Dream, this production delivered on its promise.

SYLVIA SAYS:

The Idea of America, fora brief moment, almost manages to make dementia look glamorous. This is in so small way attributable to Michele Hine’s portrayal of Jude, a fifty-year-old former actress who has dementia. A self-confessed show pony since a young age, she retreats into her dressing room to prepare to take the stage once again. She’s actually been put into care, and is in her hospital room. Oblivious, but articulate and fabulous, she imparts her “wisdom”, tells her stories and generally revels in the pleasure of having an audience. Her monologues are then spliced together with scenes involving her children. The two groups will not meet until the finale.

Of her children, Holly is the eldest; a wallflower driven from the nest by their attention-loving mother. She has now returned to a family in crisis. Sean, the middle child, is having difficultly both coming out to his family and with the break up of his relationship. Maureen is 17, and is exploring sex and her mother’s lithium.

Holly (Isla Adamson) is set up as the enemy, and her return to the nest is the thrust of the play. She is frequently told how annoying she is by just about everyone. The biggest problem with this is that she’s never that unreasonable at any point during play, although a little conservative perhaps. She’s often conflicted, but is also sometimes the voice of reason and certainly stoic. (Her character is dealt a cruel blow in the second scene from her husband. He’s been sleeping with another. For a year. “Give or take,” he says. And so my first emotion towards her was one of empathy.) Adamson is, on the whole, very good. Her attempt at an American accent is not always spot on, but when she gets it right her voice overflows with vulnerability.

Chelsie Preston-Crayford plays Maureen expertly. Lord only knows where she is getting the time to go to all these rehearsals; fresh from the seriously melodramatic Dog Sees God, having just finished an inspired run of the Vagina Monologues (both at the Basement Theatre). Her comedic timing is given the opportunity to fully flex its muscles, between convincing teenage pouts and musings on drugs and sex.

Michele Hine, is nothing short of spectacular. She goes from confident and flamboyant to fragile and confused in a single breath. And the words writer Sam Shore streams from the mouths of all his characters, to describe the perilous situation of having a family member loosing their grip on reality, is searing. The dialogue is tight, but not overworked. Most disarming, is that everyone’s vices are as such that it’s easy to see yourself in just about every member of the family. The writer’s intention, also laid out in the director’s notes in the programme, is perfectly communicated. You don’t have to have delusions of grandeur to be bitterly disappointed in life.

It’s very good. It’s dark in places, although not over the top, and it’s genuinely funny. At $30, it’s easily money well spent, and a well-paced 90 minutes leaving you plenty of time to make a dinner reservation to discuss the ample subject matter on offer.