The Cervantes Theatre hosts the London premiere of this new play dealing with the struggles of parenthood and self love. Guillermo Nazara shares his views on the show, to let us know more about this piece where dreaming can mean torture.
So often do we hear that we, as humans, aren’t meant to be alone. And yet, there’s so many times we wish that was the case. To confine ourselves into our own private world – where nobody could reach us, where time wouldn’t order us, and when reality cannot hurt us. We all yearn to escape from us once in a while. To sever the ties and tear down the bridges. And just let us be in our own island.
London’s Cervantes Theatre has opened its autumn season with the English language adaptation of The Island, a new play dealing with the conflict between loving others while also loving ourselves. Penned by Juan Carlos Rubio and translated by Tim Gutteridge, the piece is a harrowing exploration on guilt and desire, presented through the struggles of two mothers fretfully waiting at the hospital for their son after a terrible accident.
Delivering an interesting premise that gradually unravels throughout the performance, the script manages to tackle several clashing themes with certain profundity – all of them centered around the contradictions between imposed morality and our true nature as humans. Is it that terrible to hope for the worst for somebody else if that will relieve us both?
The play’s philosophical undertone keeps a steady rhythm throughout the plotline’s eerie evolution, something that, nonetheless, is sadly not matched altogether by the story’s pacing. Edited and cut down from its original Madrid version (where the characters would break the narrative as if they were actors in rehearsal), this new approach, reduced to the events happening by the emergency room, helps make the recount more cohesive and functional. However, the first act still strives to take off by being too expositional when setting up the background, while some other moments during the climax feel a bit too exaggerated and, all in all, melodramatic.
Directed by Jessica Lazar, the performances are undoubtedly the most praiseworthy element of the entire production – thanks, in particular, to Rebecca Crankshaw’s stoic yet highly moving rendition. On the other hand, Alex Corey’s astute, evocative lighting serve as the perfect complement to both the characters and account, creating a realistic atmosphere that little by little progresses into a more symbolic, trascendent visual enhancing the show’s psychological turmoil.
With quite a few strong components in boyh its writing and staging, The Island has managed to build some soft bonds with its viewers by presenting them with some ferocious roughness. It is now their duty to polish that roughness to truly make it sharper. Let the core bits of the story expand and toss away everything that puts us away from its piercing message. In other words, let its bleakness shine.
The Island plays at London’s Cervantes Theatre until 21 October. Tickets are available on the following link.