Julia Bon-McDonald
The play is set against the backdrop of a house that could well have belonged to my nana and grandad. Someone near me smells of stale cigarette smoke, and for a second I accept it as merely part of Meg Rollandi’s production design (it isn’t). The yellow-y wallpaper evokes an ageing mid-century build. The accompanying furniture, sheet music and various other detritus provide a believable amount of clutter to the ambitious amount of space. Lucas Neal’s lighting design is very down-to-earth, and often helped to subtly indicate separation between scenes that occasionally crash into each other.
We establish fairly early on that this is a family that fights out in the open. Their arguments often start the same way, a passive-aggressive remark, countered by another passive-aggressive remark, a more aggressive remark, followed by a full devolution into indiscernible shit-slinging. Usually, I’d feel a little annoyed that I couldn’t hear everything being said on stage, but the sheer incomprehensibility of the Lochburn siblings fights demonstrate one clear thing to me: if a fight is that ugly, it doesn’t really matter what is being said. The purpose of these fights is to hurt each other, and that’s clearly what they do. I wracked my brain as to whether the overlapping dialogue had led me to miss any major plot points, but I think the lines that were needed in order to move the plot along were given space to be heard.
I loved the songs, I thought they did well to demonstrate that music was something that the Lochburns were able to bond over – trauma bond over, even. ‘Tom, Dick or Harry’ was a beautiful, frenzied attempt at keeping the muddled Gus Lochburn tied to reality, and ‘I Remember You’ broke my heart. That being said, Margaret’s spectral rendition of ‘Perhaps perhaps perhaps’ could have been left on the cutting room floor. As I said, I was a fan of the unintelligible arguments that frequented and the Lochburns, but this one didn’t quite land on its feet. I think having an entire song (and dance) number, coupled with overlapping dialogue was just slightly too much for the senses in this instance.
All the characters have a lot of emotional ground to cover, none more so than Gus Lochburn. Peter Hambleton as Gus is utterly believable. He is frightening, endearing, playful, frustrating - which makes it all the more tragic when all of that is stripped away to reveal the version of Gus who has been ravaged by Dementia. Stella Reid’s portrayal of Helena Lochburn, the youngest sibling, was equally impressive. Her physicality as Helena is excellent, from the second she gets on stage she looks so much at home in the facade of a house. I loved every second of her whinging, joking, drinking and reminiscing - she clearly read the youngest sibling job description.
The play definitely has a few moments where it stumbles into cliches. I can’t help but cringe at more than one of the ‘I should have been there’ type-lines, inevitably cut off by a ‘she knows’ type-line. But the characters are all fully realised, complex people who interact excellently. I really enjoyed noticing words or phrases that the Lochburn children had clearly picked up from their parents, and the subtle mirroring of their parents’ traits and behaviours was saddening and amusing in equal measure. The amount of thought and consideration that went into writing this show really shines through, and the end result is slick, emotional, and very, very real.
and the Lochburns is on until 2 November in Circa One, I highly recommend you go and see it.
⅘ Stars.