[At the Traverse..] The Drowned World was slow torture. Gary Owen’s latest play, though sometimes poetically vivid, is mostly an irritatingly vague futuristic nightmare about two ‘radiant ‘ people – Julian and Tara – who talk like crazed radicals and dread the multitude.
They are jealously hunted down by regular citizens who lust after chunks of their hair and extracted teeth. Adoration and horrific violence seem to be inseparable, as Tara isn’t averse to stabbing her darling Julian.
Vicky Featherstone’s production for Paines Plough is stark and cool. This mercifully counters all the descriptive gore but leaves Owen's nasty world seeming extremely remote. And that’s not to mention the deeply questionable conclusion where the mutilated dead smile merrily.
Not exactly festive. |
