theSpace @ Surgeon’s Hall
Until 9th August (13:50)
What have we done to deserve pain? What twisted cards of fate by those mute gods play’d? Anatomy of Pain doesn’t give us the answers, but it certainly gives us the back story! So where to begin – well, I’m absolutely delighted I have seen this brave play, not because it was particularly delightful – not, not at all, it was a tricky watch -, but because it combin’d this quickfire, pseudocaustic dramaturgy with a real eye-opener of a subject, y’know, have a debilitating disease just can’t be good, right?
It’s been a year since Anatomy’s sacclaim’d run in Brighton, & they are tight – as is the script, as is the stagecraft. The story is told by two extremely talented actors; Klara Grapci-Germizaj plays the sick woman, prowling thro’ her cause like a wounded hungry mother wolf trying top feed her cubs; Will Kirk triples up & plays a boyfriend, NHS Doctor, & private surgeon. Together they make a more than fine fit, & portray their roles with polish.
“You can’t be sick forever if you’re dead”
The experience of suffering a mysterious & undiagnos’d illness is analys’d via numerous angles, & reall ybrought to life with a poetical, cutting edge. So many cracking lines immerses us in this volatile experience. Words create universes, create theological systems, create history; & writer & producer, Aoife Parr’s words shoot well beyond the pale – she’s damn good, like! I believe the play’s creative intensity comes surely from her own personal experiences of living under such a shadow of ill health herself!
Anatomy of Pain is a play of contrasts – a shiny porcelain production, but of the bleakest material bleeding angst & raging maniacally against its acidic pains. We also learn a lot – there’s six months of waiting on the NHS counterpois’d by an expensive private doctor who says, in the manner of any self-assur’d second hand car salesman;
“There’s no guarantees, but I’ve done a lot of these – trust me I’m good”
This is less a play, but more a crusade. It is rare in theatre these days to find you’re actually rooting for a character from the terraces, it’s mainly pure spectacle with an occasional emotive nudge, but Anatomy of Pain possesses both spectacle & emotions in abundance. The soundscape, especially, is a vital cog in the machinery – really trance-inducing, & completely on point with its timing – its practically cinematic.
“When you let the pain shape you into this person I hate you, I hate you!”
Another good touch is the inclusion of occasional newsclips, contextualising the piece in the same time-strata as a British government that was (& still is) battling with itself about how much human disability it should recognise, & subsequently assist.
Ultimately, Anatomy of Pain presents, with major professional touches, the confused dystopia of a disease-riddl’d existence – muscl’d in on by all of its side effects, psychoses & suicidal tendencies. Superb!
Damo
themumble.uk 