Review: After the End

 In a media and public conscience that is beleaguered with the extremes ends of the gender cliches, Dennis Kelly’s After the End offers a portrait of masculinity disturbingly reminiscent of the darker moments of my teenage inner turmoil.

 

The neurotic two part, two character play begins with the bleary eyed emergence of Louise, played by Sarah Palmer, from unconsciousness into the nuclear fall out shelter of Tom Giles’ Mark. The narrative introduced through stuttering and at points comedically uneasy dialogue, we learn that Mark has saved Louise, a co-worker in the local office, from the carnage of a suit-case bomb. From the first instance Mark’s eagerness to be understood falls short of Louise’s erratic empathy the audience is aware of rifts in both the narrative and Mark’s stability.

 

For several reasons the play is not an easy one to watch. Most obviously, sinister moments of sexual release take the forms of a rape scene understood through a conceptual dance routine and a harrowingly drawn out burst of wank crying. Less perceptibly, the incongruous nature of several aspects of the plot and the uncomfortable pattern of speech force the audience to question the competence of the playwright. The manner in which these holes are eventually sewn acts as both the strongest and weakest aspects of the play as a whole. Strongest if one wishes to become immersed in the confusion, misery and eventual flatness of the bathetic resolution; weakest if one feels the need to be in a space of separated control.

 

 

Director Flora Ogilvy and Producer Kate Wilson do a masterful job of the former. By transforming the Drama Barn into a hollowed out shell and shining lights visibly uncomfortable for the actors, the audience is unable to hide behind any sort of fourth wall. Small touches such as the steam that rises off one of many cans of warmed up chili highlight the commitment and forethought of a competent crew.

 

As much effort was spent prior to the event, no amount of attentiveness is enough to hold an audience in such rapt attention for two hours. Acting in his Drama Society debut, Tom Giles was astounding as the emotionally schizophrenic Mark. Torn between a conservative understanding of good and bad and a desire to express himself in a manner beyond cripplingly awkward after work drinks, Giles’ toed a mature line between political allegory, sinister wreck and wounded animal. It is a testament to any actor to induce such conflicting reactions within an audience; my personal understanding of Mark to be one of heart-bleeding empathy and upmost revulsion in equal measure.

 

The competence of Sarah Palmer’s Louise was realised in an altogether different manner. The “normal” one, Palmer showed her ability to flit from sobbing feminine stereotype to enraged and in control consistently throughout the play. Her concluding dialogue was, whilst somewhat long, a testament to the intensity and heartfelt nature of her performance.

 

In all, After the End was a special piece of Drama Barn theatre. Undeniably, there are weaker and stronger points and at times the narrative is hard to engage with. However, this appears to be the product of somewhat clunky script writing rather than the fault of the ensemble. As such, it would be a disservice to the cast, crew and my emotional involvement with the characters to award it anything less than two thumbs up.