Review: That Face

Immediately, the intimate setting of York University’s Drama Barn draws the audience into this warped and somewhat uncomfortable world where, to the characters, even torture seems acceptable. That Face charts the story of a family which finds itself spiralling downwards, dragged by the weight of a toxic, unstable mother. That Face is about what happens when the lights go out. And it is executed brilliantly.

Written by Polly Stenham at the age of only 19, That Face gives a snapshot into the lives of two teenagers at boarding school, picking on (that’s an understatement) younger students and getting into a lot of trouble. It follows the life of a family torn apart by mental illness, addiction and divorce and what all of those things can mean for children trying to raise themselves – as well as their own mother. The play tragically details the consequences of one child not getting any attention, and another receiving much too much.

An incredible, stand-out and absolutely fearless performance by Yoshika Colwell as Martha: the narcissistic, self-indulgent, alcoholic mother of two immediately wins the audience over. With brilliant comic timing she navigates between moments of hilarity and absurdity and then seamlessly reverting back to the overarching dark, twisted narrative of the play. It is hard to imagine the role portrayed with more flair or charm.

Her performance is complimented by a beautifully understated, down-to-earth performance from Isla van Tricht as her long-suffering daughter, Mia. Through subtle, very authentic-seeming reactions and facial expressions, she gives perhaps the most convincing performance of the cohort.

The immensely talented ensemble works well together, with moments of brilliance emerging from a great rapport between the cast throughout. Though the torment and drama of That Face will grip you, it is the hilarious exchanges between characters – especially following the entrance of Andy Lake (as ex-husband and father) – that will really win you over. They got plenty of laughs in all the right places amongst the generally shocking, troubling focus of what goes on behind closed doors. The whole play, dripping with honesty and realism, seems to be inviting the audience to question where the line between black and white, right and wrong really lies – if it even exists at all. Though, in the final seconds the action seems to trail off and crawl towards a conclusion; the explosive crescendo and nightmarish family reunion of Act 2 astounds and resounds long after the lights come up at the end.