To tell a story of loss, the first need for the hearer (and the teller) is to enunciate the loss. Explain the loss, why it matters, why the hearer needs to care about the loss. British playwright Philip Ridley takes a different pathway with his late 1990s two-hander. We know immediately that Vincent is dead, but, we don't know much more than his mother is being stalked by a scrawny teenager, "a school kid",  she derisively taunts him. Throughout the ninety minutes the impact of the loss of Vincent on the two characters is peeled away, layer by layer, as if one were peeling an onion. And when one peels an onion, there are bound to be tears - yet - the tears here are drawn from a deeper well and not so easily pumped to the surface by using tired theatre tricks to elicit emotion. There is something different happening here.

On an elevated playing space that despite its open to the audience on all sides appearance, the feeling of claustrophobia and tightness is never easily shaken, with the two characters using every inch of it, as well as the surrounding floor space (placing them well within arm's reach of the audience) creating not only the dilapidated sitting room and kitchen of Anita's newly moved into flat, but every place, every aspect of those places Davey and Anita interacted with Vincent, and the sounds, the smells and the feeling of these places cannot be mistaken, such is the strength of the direction from Michael Beh and the marathon-like interplay between Patrick Shearer and Amanda McErlean

Shearer's performance is extraordinary. From the monosyllabic, sotto-voce lines he delivers for the first fifteen minutes matched by his disengaged but somewhat wired physical delivery, to an almost cocky young man who is in turns alluring, vocal, and uses highly descriptive storytelling; the energy needed to sustain such a journey is that of a tightly wound dynamo, ready to explode (and explode he does - but not in the way you might think). McErlean has probably the harder job of being the distraught mother who is dealing not only with the death of a beloved only son, but a son who hid his personal life from her, and it is that personal life which links Davey to Vincent and ultimately to Anita. Her journey encompasses everything - fear, anger, anguish, humour, and pleasing nostalgic reminiscing. Such is the writing and the actor's understanding of it, you know that Anita is going to push too far and a dam-breaking howl must come - and when it does it's something of a cross between Euripides 'Medea' and the central thesis of Alan Ginsberg's 'Howl' - and it is a peak of McErlean's work of Anita that then can only have the extended denouement that closes the work.

McErlean also developed the sound design with director Beh and this has many hooks into the plot without directly referencing any of the action in the centre (the use of Kate Bush's 'The Infant Kiss' is surprising - but not - at the same time) and the rest of the musical soundscape draws from a wide palette of quality British music to help ground the action in the rugged areas of East London where the play is set. The crafting of the text by Ridley is not straight narrative either, there are patterns and rhymes in the words and sentences used, sometimes by both characters and it gives the play an esoteric air while not for once prettying up the gritty patina that is smeared over every surface. 

Given the Federal Government's unbelievably diabolical distain for supporting the creative and performing arts (beyond a risible "tradie" style package) both before and during the pandemic, theatre companies and the actors, directors, composers, designers, and the all-important stage crew and front-of-house staff, are either struggling to survive or have sunk with no hope of a miraculous rebirth from the depths of COVIDespair. The Curators Theatre is bringing challenging, strongly created work to the audience - and they need an audience to experience the work they have toiled over. There is one week left and seeing as Brisbane has hardly next to naught theatre experiences this year, do not let this fleeting chance go by. 
Blair Martin

Vincent River
The Curators Theatre at Christ Church, Milton (9 Chippendall Street - behind Lang Park)
until Saturday, October 31, 
Performance at 7.30pm Tuesday to Saturday
www.curators.com.au/shows/vincent-river

(TRIGGER WARNING: The play contains strong language, particularly of an adult & sexual nature, as well as graphic verbal depictions of violence pertaining to hate crimes against members of the diverse in gender and sexuality community. Discretion is advised.)