KEY POINTS:
REVIEW
What: The Cut
Where: Silo Theatre
Reviewer: Shannon Huse
Fans of Robyn Malcolm and Frank Whitten's cheeky Outrageous Fortune characters had best steer clear of their Silo Theatre debuts in The Cut.
It's as far away from West Auckland as you could possibly imagine, with the sitcom stars swapping underclass for ruling class in a taut drama that is blacker than the boot of a bogan's car.
Written by controversial British playwright Mark Ravenhill, The Cut dissects the politics of state-endorsed torture in a dystopian tale told from the viewpoint of the torturer (Paul).
It's plot is rather obtuse and many key facts are left to the audience's imagination including the eponymous cut; a mysterious procedure that may result in emasculation or enlightenment but definitely includes excessive pain.
The play's three scenes are basically conversations between Paul and key people in his life. In the first, Paul tries to convince a scarily supplicant young man not to have the cut. In the second scene, Paul dines with his wife Susan and they pick over the carcass of their dead relationship, and in the final scene, Paul is in prison and his son Stephen is part of a new, more liberal regime.
Frank Whitten is astonishingly good as Paul, playing him as a man whose mental, physical and spiritual health are being destroyed by the work he does. Paul is crying out for change, he wants to be unmasked and seeks violent punishment as absolution.
Robyn Malcolm is a warm, sensual actor so it is a shock to see her playing against type as the neurotic Susan. It is a brittle and frosty performance that makes you want to shake her out of her stupor.
In the supporting roles, Jarod Rawiri gives an intense showing as the young man pleading for the cut. He is best playing John's fear and desire for the cut but some more subtlety is needed to bring out the swinging balances of power between him and Frank Whitten's Paul.
Mia Blake has little to do playing two downtrodden serving girls but manages to express a lot with her doleful eyes. David Van Horn gives a nicely restrained performance as son Stephen who represents the bloodless new regime offering a strangely unpalatable non-violent future.
Rachel Walker's stark set demonstrates the power of simplicity with its combination of blocky bench seats and long table evoking an institutional horror house, a suburban dining room and a political prison through minor rearrangements.
The matt black furniture sits on a revolve that slowly spins the actors around at a torturously slow rate and provides a neat visual metaphor for some of the play's themes, the rotating power plays between victim and abuser, the cycles of violence inflicted by regimes, and individuals as powerless cogs.
Sound designer Chris O'Connor has been given free rein to score the play's entire 90 minutes and his atmospheric music and effects add much menace. A particular highlight is the tick tock of parlour clocks in the dinner scene referencing the ticking time bomb that is the couple's relationship.
The Cut is certainly not perfect. Some of the Pinteresque dialogue is infuriatingly mannered and the bare bones characters are challenging for audience and actor alike, but despite these flaws I enjoyed it. It is the Silo returning to its more edgy roots. It made me feel tense, sad and a bit sick, resulting in a strangely good night at the theatre.
