A blue football rests in the middle of a chalk circle; traumatised Edward, played by Alex Austin, moves nervously around the edges of the stage; a television set flicks on and off. It quickly becomes clear that this play, written by Andrew Sheridan, will address the nature of remaining life in a post-apocalyptic landscape.
For the first few minutes it seems as if Hope Light and Nowhere, set in a dimly lit basement, will portray a hopeless dystopia in which nothing is left apart from fear and isolation. Enter Raffety, played by Ben Lee, and the preceding atmosphere dramatically alters. Consumed with ruthless energy, he recounts episodes of chewing on condoms to forget the taste the outside world (referred to simply as ‘outside’) leaves in his mouth. We realise that these characters, albeit subconsciously, are fighting to retain a sense of the human spirit.
Both Austin and Lee deliver exquisite performances and are thoroughly engaging throughout. In fact, I’d go as far to say that Lee’s encapsulation of Raffety’s neurotic disposition is perhaps the finest acting and expression of a character I’ve seen for some time.
The audience is initially led to believe that this piece will be a two-hander, but Sheridan’s narrative takes a different direction as Raffety leaves to explore what lurks outside and Bleach, an elderly widowed gentleman arrives to question Edward’s memory the events of his childhood which lie almost beyond recollection. Richard Evans embodies this part with unnerving composure, beautifully giving voice to the inherent poetry of the text. He also eats the organs of a dead rat as if they were a delightful feast.
The relationship between the three characters is deeply enigmatic and, although an overarching connection is hinted at (Edward declaring to Bleach, ‘You remind me of my Grandad’), this thread is left unresolved. Naturally, if the play were to provide definitive answers to the questions posed it would not be nearly as enthralling and unsettling. However, this purposeful lack of information combined with its non-linear structure is at times confusing and runs the risk of alienating the audience.
Still, Sheridan is an immensely promising playwright and these actors are a joy to watch. You may leave the basement slightly perplexed, but Hope Light and Nowhere has the potential, as I experienced last night before falling asleep, of lingering in your thoughts and catching you unaware.
