The Park Theatre hosts the UK premiere of this striking play dealing with the scars of a past impossible to leave behind. Guillermo Nazara shares his views on the production, to let us know more about this show reassembling the pieces of a broken soul.
What’s the real meaning of love? Too many songs and plotlines have tried to sell us the wrong idea. Or at least, an incomplete one. Yes, we’re convinced that we would do anything for that special one (Jim Steinman Trust, please don’t sue me). But that only applies when we can still take benefit from it. As long as they’re around, we may even give our lives for them. But what if taking their own life away is what they need us to do?
For those already raising their eyebrows in disgust, you can take that look off your face (Andrew, don’t do it either). This play is not, by any means, an idealization of suicide. Quite on the contrary. But it does bring out some questions we may have wondered at some point, but instead decide to bury when we’ve found ourselves unable to respond – or terrified to do so. In other words, it makes you see things from a different perspective. And, to some degree, also think.
Written by Andrew Rosendor, Paper Cut is a tale of confrontation. The story of a soldier trapped in his own inner war. A war which, at the same time, encompasses too many conflicts. The struggle for self acceptance drives the dramatic impulses of this touching narrative exploring such diverse (but connected) themes as homophobia, disrupted family relationships and, ultimately, the quest for real happiness. Despite its start lacking some of the emotional grip will be taken by later, the pacing rapidly manages to get on track, soon unraveling an intricate tapestry of scarring feelings and realizations – showing the irony of our existence by proving its most fundamental contradiction: it’s the fact that we are so frail that actually makes us so strong.
Directed by Scott Hurran, the production features both dynamic and slightly symbolic blocking – with an interesting and suggestive set design, credit to Sorcha Corcoran. The cast is, however, the greatest addition of this production – in special, Callum Mardy’s discreet but effective performance in the lead role of Kyle. The subconscious strife of his character is adequately encapsulated through an apparently quiet approach, ready to burst at any moment like a power keg of raw sentiments. On the other hand, Joe Bollard also gives a compelling rendition as Kyle’s brother, Jack – bringing out a more explosive, unstable temperament that creates a perfect match onstage next to Mardy’s sobriety.
Paper Cut may not be aiming at the edges when it comes to storytelling, but certainly knows how to pierce an audience’s heart. Crude but gentle, devastating though inspiring. It’s never easy to write a piece that’s able to touch, let alone stir something within you so you never look back at it the same way. There’s a few ingredients in this one that will provide at least a sample or two of it. Just as its protagonist, its ability to move forward stems from the light of its darkness.
All pictures credit to Stefan Hanegraaf.
Paper Cut plays at London’s Park Theatre until 1 July . Tickets are available on the following link.