The Mercy Seat
Thu, 4 Sept 2008, 08:14 amGordon the Optom1 post in thread
The Mercy Seat
Thu, 4 Sept 2008, 08:14 amIt is 5.00 am on the 12th September 2001, 20 hours after the attack on the Twin Towers. Ben Harcourt (Paul Barry) should have been working in the World Trade Centre when the plane crashes took place. However, he was at the flat of his older and more intelligent boss, Abby (Rebecca Davis). Because he hasn’t answered his mobile phone, he has been presumed dead - along with thousands of his fellow workers - by his wife and family.
Should he take advantage of this fact and carry on his affair? When Abby questions him as to how he feels, his reply is weak and unconvincing, ‘Why don't we just go away? I am dead now. My kids will think I'm a hero — let's do it’.
Abby considers all the work she has put into her career, to be where she is. Will Ben let his family know he is alive? Alternatively, will he and Abby take this chance to create a new life for themselves?
Neil LaBute’s style of writing has been grouped with Pinter, Albee, and Mamet, as a contemporary playwright who likes to have arrogant, unpleasant males as central characters, and to have a script that shocks. He regularly creates male characters who, basically, cannot cope with the erosion of their authority. His men become frustrated and disturbed, as the women in the stories take on the traditionally masculine responsibilities. Some say LaBute is a misogynist; others say his attitude is due to his being a practising Mormon and their patriarchal approach to life. In The Mercy Seat, however, this distinction has disappeared. The play mainly addresses the sexual aspects of the characters' relationships, rather than focusing on the horrors of 9 – 11, with the man this time appearing the weaker character.
Incidentally, ‘The Mercy Seat’ is a Biblical reference, being Martin Luther's translation from the German ‘Gnadenstuhl’, which literally means ‘seat of grace’. It was an atonement piece, connected with the rituals of Yom Kippur, which rested upon of the Ark of the Covenant. LaBute explained ‘the temple was the one space where God could come, and man or the priests could speak before him’.
This whole production is one of subtleties. The clever guidance through the script, co-directed by two very experienced directors, Michael McCall and Belinda Dunbar. There is very little action, but plenty of interest, as like an onion, the layers are pealed back, along with the resultant tears, to reveal yet another side of the characters’ personalities. Rebecca Davis is one of WA’s best actors and she totally captured her part as the logical, powerful lover / boss, whereas Paul Barry as the sensitively immature boyfriend made the audience laugh and gasp at some of his uncaring comments. Two superb performances.
Delicate approach to the sound and lighting from Matthew Nankivell and Tallon Moss.
The Downstairs’ seating is cabaret style, which I felt was not quite right for this genre of production, but I may be just excessively picky. Ten minutes before the end, as one important phase of the play was reaching a climax, two ladies clip-clopped out to the toilets, and laughed and giggled as they flushed the loo. Then on the table next to them, at the most sensitive part of the script, the group started chatting and passing around the wine bottle. The play was about an insensitive moron, they proved that there are still people out there who have a similar, totally self-centred, attitude.
If you appreciate quality acting, a well-crafted script, with subtly in mood changes and personal interaction, then you couldn’t do better than this story of relationships.
It is 5.00 am on the 12th September 2001, 20 hours after the attack on the Twin Towers. Ben Harcourt (Paul Barry) should have been working in the World Trade Centre when the plane crashes took place. However, he was at the flat of his older and more intelligent boss, Abby (Rebecca Davis). Because he hasn’t answered his mobile phone, he has been presumed dead - along with thousands of his fellow workers - by his wife and family.
Should he take advantage of this fact and carry on his affair? When Abby questions him as to how he feels, his reply is weak and unconvincing, ‘Why don't we just go away? I am dead now. My kids will think I'm a hero — let's do it’.
Abby considers all the work she has put into her career, to be where she is. Will Ben let his family know he is alive? Alternatively, will he and Abby take this chance to create a new life for themselves?
Neil LaBute’s style of writing has been grouped with Pinter, Albee, and Mamet, as a contemporary playwright who likes to have arrogant, unpleasant males as central characters, and to have a script that shocks. He regularly creates male characters who, basically, cannot cope with the erosion of their authority. His men become frustrated and disturbed, as the women in the stories take on the traditionally masculine responsibilities. Some say LaBute is a misogynist; others say his attitude is due to his being a practising Mormon and their patriarchal approach to life. In The Mercy Seat, however, this distinction has disappeared. The play mainly addresses the sexual aspects of the characters' relationships, rather than focusing on the horrors of 9 – 11, with the man this time appearing the weaker character.
Incidentally, ‘The Mercy Seat’ is a Biblical reference, being Martin Luther's translation from the German ‘Gnadenstuhl’, which literally means ‘seat of grace’. It was an atonement piece, connected with the rituals of Yom Kippur, which rested upon of the Ark of the Covenant. LaBute explained ‘the temple was the one space where God could come, and man or the priests could speak before him’.
This whole production is one of subtleties. The clever guidance through the script, co-directed by two very experienced directors, Michael McCall and Belinda Dunbar. There is very little action, but plenty of interest, as like an onion, the layers are pealed back, along with the resultant tears, to reveal yet another side of the characters’ personalities. Rebecca Davis is one of WA’s best actors and she totally captured her part as the logical, powerful lover / boss, whereas Paul Barry as the sensitively immature boyfriend made the audience laugh and gasp at some of his uncaring comments. Two superb performances.
Delicate approach to the sound and lighting from Matthew Nankivell and Tallon Moss.
The Downstairs’ seating is cabaret style, which I felt was not quite right for this genre of production, but I may be just excessively picky. Ten minutes before the end, as one important phase of the play was reaching a climax, two ladies clip-clopped out to the toilets, and laughed and giggled as they flushed the loo. Then on the table next to them, at the most sensitive part of the script, the group started chatting and passing around the wine bottle. The play was about an insensitive moron, they proved that there are still people out there who have a similar, totally self-centred, attitude.
If you appreciate quality acting, a well-crafted script, with subtly in mood changes and personal interaction, then you couldn’t do better than this story of relationships.