As part of an international creative collaboration with Napoli Teatro Festival Italia and Traverse Theatre, Vanishing Point draws inspiration for its new play from the 1891 play Interior by Belgian playwright Maurice Maeterlinck
Contemporary theatre often breaks down the traditional "fourth wall" that separates the audience from the performers, and audience members often find they are willingly (or more often, unwillingly) embroiled in the action themselves. Not so with Interiors, which actually cuts off its audience by sealing the actors in a glass compartment so they can be seen but not heard.
A Voyeuristic Journey
Inside the glass box is a table neatly set for a dinner party, over which the audience spend the next hour and ten minutes on a voyeuristic journey watching the antics. Without ever hearing the action, the audience indulges in "spying" upon the party, egged on by the deliciously teasing narration of Elicia Daly’s omniscient character, who delights in revealing the thoughts of the dinner guests.
This is used to particular comic effect, for instance when Myra McFadyen sits down to eat the pork stew and thinks "Oh God, how do I tell I’m him vegetarian?" It’s this simple, honest and human humour that runs throughout the play that makes it such a delight to watch.
Successfully Directed by Matthew Lenton
With skillful direction, Matthew Lenton leads the audience seamlessly from one action to the next; Elicia’s tidbits of information making the audience work hard to fill in the gaps (after all, when engaging in spying, speculation is infinitely more satisfying than fact). The play reaches its inevitable climax, but on whole, the story is grounded in reality, proving that the mundane can be interesting and even beautiful.
Indeed, Andrew Melville’s small moments of pride with the food, or horror at his granddaughter’s infatuation, or moments of stifled grief shows how powerful ordinary emotions can be.
Action over Narration
The balance between Elicia’s narration and the action on stage is well maintained, providing a great deal of humour and poignancy to the piece. At times she fell silent, letting the action speak for itself. Occasionally it would be good to see the reverse happen; to have the action reduce and become stiller, letting Elicia’s voice convey the emotion. Sometimes there is slight danger towards over gesticulating.
The pace starts to drag slightly towards the end, which is a shame because the stillness that Andrew captures by staring out of the window right into our "world" is captivating, and would be more so had it been contrasted by a speedier exit from the other characters.
The actors keep their own names, which emphasizes the everyday quality to the piece, and Elicia’s conversational tone with the audience brings the action even closer to home. These people could be anyone, and as such you feel their happiness and grief with a poignancy that is hard to shake off, even after leaving the space.
- Director - Matthew Lenton
- Set and Lighting - Kai Fischer
- Music and Sound - Alasdair Macrae
