Theatre Republic. Space Theatre. 25 Sep 2024
When the girl was old enough to walk, she began to float, two or three inches above the ground, and then higher and higher until her head hit the ceiling and her mother had to buy an extra-extendable ladder just to bring her down. “You must keep it a secret,” the neighbours said, so the mother tied a piece of string from the girl’s hand to her own, and let down the bottom of every skirt, so no one could see the space between the shoes and the floor. One day, the mother forgot to lock the kitchen drawer, and the girl found a knife, a big knife, the best knife, for old bread and tough legs of ham, and she dragged it down her body, top to bottom, opening herself like a leather bag. She stepped out of her skin and kicked it away, where it hit the wall – splat! – and slithered to the ground. The mother tried to catch her daughter but there was nothing there to hold on to. “Look up, look up, look up,” the little girl said, and she flew around her mother, and did somersaults in the air, and walked along the clothesline, and made silly faces at the window, while the mother cried, and the skin turned to slush in her hands.
Anna
Anna is 18 years old and has officially reached the end of her childhood. This milestone is emotionally difficult for any child/adult, as it is for their parents and those who care for them. For Anna, the coming-of-age projects her headlong into a confusing, complex and ultimately painful outcome for all concerned.
Anna lives with a mental illness and has been medicated since the age of 11. At her coming of age, she discovers boxes of her journals in her mother’s wardrobe, written before her diagnosis. Struck by the remarkable stories she produced as a child, Anna tries to find her way back by going cold turkey on her medication. Is she still in there?
Kendall Feaver’s The Almighty Sometimes reaches a fist into the world of mental illness, twists and turns until it bleeds, patches it up, then makes it bleed again. Opening with the monologue ‘When the girl…’, written by an eight-year-old Anna, the opening scene finds Anna (Emily Liu) and Oliver (Simon Chandler) engaged in the age-old courtship ritual albeit in contemporary terms; I walked you home, now are we sleeping together? The intervention of Anna’s mother Renee (Tamara Lee) indicates their relationship – tight, and tightly held. Anna’s psychiatrist Vivienne (Anna Steen) is a wonderfully realised character, also holding firmly to her feelings, her professionalism, her private life and most importantly, to her decision to prescribe the cocktail of medications to a young Anna.
Anna’s exploration of life without drugs leads to an unravelling, and while the triangulated daughter, mother, psychiatrist relationship takes up the most space, the nascent romance between Anna and Oliver has its own echoes of agony and ecstasy.
Simon Chandler works his way into the character of Oliver with a charm that does not indicate what lies beneath, until the comedic gives way to the distraught. The trauma that Oliver feels, and his inability to continue is portrayed adroitly by Chandler.
Tamara Lee takes her time fleshing out Renee, but when she arrives, she is a force of nature as the mother with a surfeit of unconditional love and warrior strength. This is counterpointed by Anna Steen’s vaguely enigmatic portrayal of psychiatrist Vivienne, a study in restraint and poise.
It is Emily Liu as Anna who is riveting, appearing to traverse the incredible range of emotions effortlessly. With an illness that (cleverly) never reveals its name, she depicts a journey into mental illness, coupled with the confusion of the coming of age, with a sure hand.
Meg’s Wilson deceptively simple set is lit by Nic Mollison; between them they take us from kitchen to office to hospital with slight but skilfully effective shifts. Jason Sweeney’s soundscapes conveys us from scene to scene, mostly quite loudly, continuing to work in with the overarching simplicity that echoes the firm direction that Corey McMahon brings to this production.
This script is exceptional, and well deserving of the awards Kendall Feaver has garnered. This company has taken this absolute gift and presented it back to us in one of the more riveting productions of the year. A must see.
Arna Eyers-White
When: 25 to 28 Sep
Where: Space Theatre
Bookings: premier.ticketek.com.au
