There's a cacophony of noise and vision: music belts out, a woman is talking, a curious Pan-like creature reads, there are screens and shadows and it all feels very up close and personal. Thus begins the performance.
This is the story of a man and a woman. And a cat. Or maybe two men and a woman. And a cat. And a baby. Maybe. And a delivery man. And a baby. Really? Then there's the tree. If this doesn't make sense, then this is deliberate, for the audience are taken on a journey where nothing makes sense - who is real and who is not? What has happened and what has not? It's intriguing, beguiling, fast paced, chaotic, funny and scary; you desperately want to know what happens at the end.
Jodie and Julian live together. It is the anniversary of her father's death and she is stressed about the (non) arrival of a memorial tree. Her partner is stressed about the cat. Then follows a kafkaesque nightmare in which each strains to hold on to their sanity.
The part of Julian is played perfectly throughout; the actor seems as comfortable in his character's skin as in his slippers. Jodie is played with warmth and vigour and is most believable when angry rather than reminiscing with her lover. The personification of the cat is hugely appealing and visually believable, although the actor doesn’t seem quite as relaxed in his cat skin and is sometimes a little stilted. The short but amusing part of the delivery man is played with humour and ease, as well as the strong sense that he’s the only sane one there. Or is he?
The set is composed of roughly hewn seven foot screens on casters. These are used to divide the stage and suggest a feeling of claustrophobia, in addition to their use as shadow screens. The music, song and lighting all enhance the menacing mood.
Matatabi Productions have created a magical, fast paced, compelling show which elicits a multitude of emotions; the beginning is loud and tense, but the ending quietly satisfying.
