“There is a light and whistle for attracting attention.” A phrase that rings with easy familiarity for anyone who chooses air travel. But why is it the title of a piece of theatre? The copy for this production was a little opaque – to the point that it felt deliberate. Which, of course, turned out to be the case in this simply brilliant production by Play Nicely Theatre.
Prescient depiction of a woman under attack
The stage is set, intriguingly, with a chest of drawers and small wooden boxes off stage left and right. The performer, Henri Merriam, essentially recounts moments from her life from adolescence through to middle age, the focus becoming her relationship with Tom. The hope of love, marriage, a home of their own becomes a reality for our unnamed protagonist. Yet the cracks are forming. Tom is her husband, her rock, the love of her life. However, iteratively, discernibly, his attitude towards her begins to harden. Like many transitions, it starts slowly – a comment here, a criticism there. But it builds, and as she begins to normalise this behaviour, he becomes emboldened. She is excluded from an apartment on New Year’s Eve for 20 minutes, the cold biting but the humiliation and hurt burning far deeper.
He undermines her, privately and publicly. He buys her a gooseberry bush for Valentine’s Day – the analogy obvious and blunt, with its prickly outward bearing. He is possibly – probably – having an affair with her friend, Trish.
She is obsessive-compulsive... Is there ambiguity now – is she perhaps an unreliable narrator? We hear his voice on a recording, but is this in her head? Her OCD gives rise to the suspicion that she may be, at times, emotionally unintelligent, yet she knows – she feels it in her bones – that Tom is involved with Trish now.
His criticism of her ramps up. He is annoyed she will not assume his surname. He wants to see other people. He feels (classic passive aggression) that she is not the wife he wanted – not enough for him. He makes a list of her deficiencies. Let that land. A list. She doesn’t iron his shirts, doesn’t fold his clothes – it goes on. Clearly, Tom is narcissistic, gaslighting and emotionally abusing her. The misogyny is running unchecked, and he very clearly doesn’t want to be with her – or at least this version of her. She recalls the story of Grease, in which two incompatible people eventually become a couple, largely because the woman changes into someone she believes the man will want. She recalls The Taming of the Shrew, the Shakespearean play with dubious undertones viewed through contemporary optics. How will this end for the woman? We hope not terminally – but that’s far from a given.
Every aspect of this prescient production is admirable – nothing less than a triumph. The staging is subtle, adept and clever, enabling the narrative to evolve and flow. The chest of drawers somehow becomes a church lectern, a wheelchair, a stepladder. The writing focuses on an issue for our times and the director, Sophia Capasso, displays a certain yet light touch. The performance by Henri Merriam is pitch-perfect, her timing – especially when shifting into a heightened state against Tom’s recorded voice – and storytelling flawless.
The character is deliberately unnamed, suggesting a struggle to have an identity, but moreover leaning into the idea that this is not only her story; it is a situation played out domestically across the planet with depressing regularity. Her overarching desire is, like everybody’s, to be seen – but this is especially true of the vulnerable. Will she need a light and whistle to attract our attention?
