It is difficult, when faced with a play less than half an hour long, to enter the Barn with an open mind. The set up does not even inspire confidence; however, Paradise was in some respects a pleasant surprise. For a twenty seven minute one man play, Paradise had some unanticipated moments of comedy, insight and style. Even so, these features remained side notes to broader issues, mostly revolving around the text rather than the performance.
To describe the basic premise of Paradise is in itself a feat. Howard Thompson spends thirty odd minutes telling us about, well, life. We zoom from the Northern weather, to genocide, to relationships with unparalleled rapidity. Christian Smith (director and playwright) is keen to demonstrate the life of our unnamed protagonist via these broad and complex issues, yet his brushstroke approach leaves the audience reeling. I do not disparage Thompson’s performance: the saving grace of Paradise is the acting. Thompson moves with fluidity from brooding angst to light-hearted quips in an instant, giving a distinct sense of vitality to the piece, and he should not be underestimated in this undeniably challenging role. If there is any reason to see Paradise, it is the performance.
Describing the script itself is more of a challenge. On the one hand, Smith displays a keen mastery of language. The dialogue has real sparkling moments and can be a treat to listen to. Thompson relies on the quick leaps from witty jesting to poetic musing that punctuate the text to bolster his strong performance. On the other hand, Paradise lacks cohesion or a final message. The style is erratic but without unification. I was left struggling to keep abreast of any of the points made because of this nigh-on rambling style. I longed desperately for a resolution, but the denouement felt hollow and empty. And the text did not make the protagonist at all sympathetic – our lead comes across as arrogant, rude and problem-free. His is a clear case of ‘first world problems’ and we gain no real insight into his true character. Smith relies on a crass sense of humour (with textual emphasis on the motif of ‘offence’) which can be poignantly effective, but once we hear a monologue on contraceptive overtly intended to shock, the audience grows tired of the ploy. Our lead is a tedious enigma from whom we require more insight, more personality, if we are to not become desensitised to his dark nature.
Despite this, Paradise shows real promise. Both Smith and Thompson are talented in their respective fields. I hope that Smith will return to the script, rewrite it, perhaps place it in a wider context with a handful of other monologues on similar themes to give more breadth and clarity to the work. Until then, however, Paradise firmly remains in my books as a work in progress.
I have not seen Paradise, nor do I suspect it would have appealed to me, but I do wonder how Dramasoc can justify putting on a 27 minute long play as their main production of the week. Yes, quality is more important than quanitity, but at he very least, why not a double bill? There are ODNs longer than this and with free admission, how do you justify asking people to fork over up to £5 for less than half an hour’s entertainment? If you do a double bill of two shorter productions then you can give both productions a larger audience than they would likely otherwise gain, and people won’t feel short changed.