Photo by Masquar Pascali

Escaped Alone by Caryl Churchill – Coronet Theatre, London

Published at Plays International

Caryl Churchill’s unsettling, beautifully crafted play is presented at the Coronet Theatre by Italian company lacasadargilla, seen at this venue two years ago with Churchill’s L’Amore Del Cuore (Heart’s Desire). Escaped Alone, written in 2016, involves three women chatting in a back garden, joined by a fourth – Mrs Jarrett – who happens to be passing. They talk inconsequentially over tea, but as they do so it becomes clear that, under the surface, they are all wrestling with their own dark inner landscapes. Lena cannot leave the house, and is consumed by depression. Sally, a retired doctor, is irrationally scared of cats. And Vi has served time in prison for killing her husband. Meanwhile, Mrs Jarrett steps out of the conversation at regular intervals to deliver terrifying but surreal monologues describing apocalyptic scenarios consuming the world – landslides, poisoning, flood, famine, wind, disease and fire.

The production, directed by Lisa Ferlazzo Natoli and Alessandro Ferroni, is performed in Italian with subtitles. This is a little problematic as it puts up a barrier between the audience and Churchill’s apparently casual, but very carefully chosen dialogue, much of which depends on the tone of voice in which is delivered – apparent normality thinly cloaking something very different. The English subtitles also need a good proof-read. It takes some getting used to, but the cast does draw the audience in. The performances, and the production, are more cartoon-like than the hyper-reality Royal Court première. The sets by Marco Rossi and Francesca Sgariboldi present a hedge-maze parody of an English garden, in which the women drink tea from china cups, mix Bloody Marys and, bizarrely, play a little cricket. This Italian take on Englishness adds humour and provides a different take on the play, seeing it in a way that’s more akin to the fantastical comedy in Churchill’s earlier writing – plays such as Cloud Nine.

Caterina Carpio as Sally, seems in control, but is at first funny then heartbreaking as she launches into a speech about the imaginary cats that plague her life. Company co-founder Alice Palazzi is Lena, equally moving as she describes the depression that has taken over her life, saying ‘Why move your mouth and do talking?’ Ariana Gaudio’s Vi jokes about killing her husband, but it becomes apparent that it has ruined her life. Meanwhile Tania Garribba, as Mrs Jarrett, prowls the set but knows there is no way out for anyone. The cast work together well, including a hilarious acapella rendition of ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’, which they use to tease one another and the audience.

Escaped Alone – its title a quote from The Book of Job via Moby Dick, “I alone am escaped to tell you” is very prescient – her climate disaster scenarios seem less and less fictional by the day, ten years on. The way in which reality is filtered and distorted by social media is threaded throughout the play. The characters watch shows and adverts of terrifying emptiness on a big screen, emphasising the arrival of AI in our lives. The scenario might sound bleak, but Caryl Churchill something much less obvious. Escaped Alone is a play with an all-female cast of characters whose relationships with men are only occasionally discussed, and that is perhaps its most significant feature. A decade on, the play seems not so much concerned with an impending apocalypse as with the mechanisms women use to cope with life. The comfortable, interdependent conversations they have in the garden about sea birds, Julius Caesar, the definition of a billion, or the price of fish and chips are actually the most important things anyone says. The support they give one another is the reason all the characters, despite their deep troubles, are still there. Evening always comes too soon, especially in a sunny English garden, but there is no better place to be.

Photo by Roz Kavanagh

Do You Come From Gomorrah? by Frank McGuinness – Abbey Theatre Peacock Stage, Dublin

Frank McGuinness’ new play for the Abbey Theatre is stripped right back: one performer, Ryan Donaldson, describing his experiences. These come in bursts of returning memory – recounting first his boyhood with his alcoholic mother, then the Belfast boy’s home he lived in when she died, then the abuse orchestrated by the home’s boss, ‘Beastie Billy’. The place is a brothel for soldiers in the British Army, including top brass, who abuse underage boys. We never learn the narrator’s name.

It’s a harrowing piece, but barely fictional. Everyone watching the play, certainly in Ireland, will instantly make the connection to the notorious Kincora Boys Home, run by William McGrath, in which systematic abuse was accompanied by Presbyterian Unionist rhetoric, backed with beatings. Unproven stories have circulated for half a century about who knew what was happening at Kincora, and who took part in the appalling abuse that took place.

McGuinness does not attempt to explore the conspiracies: he is only interested in the experiences of the narrator, what happened to him and how he dealt with it. His language is rich and precise, carefully chosen and crafted. We know we’re in the hands of a craftsman. Ryan Donaldson performance is gripping, changing from an unsettling insistent teenager to a desperate young man before our eyes. His is both engaging and sometimes threatening, giving glimpses of the techniques he used to survive.

Sarah Baxter’s production is boldy staged in an abstract black box, with a mirror above and a pool of water below, in Alyson Cummins’ striking designs. Sinéad McKenna’s brings the setting to life with flickering reflections and long shadows. The pool, which separates Donaldson from the audience, is used for a coup de théâtre at the play’s emotional climax when he breaks through the barrier. ‘Do You Come From Gomorrah’ is seriously high quality theatre, with one of Ireland’s great playwrights bringing his remarkable skills to bear on the human cost of corruption and abuse of power.