Review of ‘Our Brothers In Cloth’:”Ripped apart”

The Camden Fringe Festival hosts the London premiere of Ronald Cofer’s latest play, dealing with concealed cases of sexual abuse by the Catholic Church. Guillermo Nazara shares his views on the show, to let us know if its obscure narrative manages to shed some light on its heartwrenching topics.

Those who throw the harshest arrows of morality are often the ones who harbour the bleakest souls. The systematic abuse from the high spheres (especially, those who’ve been appointed the deciders of right and wrong) has been subject to utmost scrutiny over the past years – that is, not without good reason. As more and more allegations of sexual misconduct continue to arise (not surprisingly, against those who, for centuries, have condemned every form of sexual expression that derives from the norm they’ve created), new works exploring the struggles of those who lived such self-destructive pain keep being brought to the stand – and sometimes, under the spotlight.

This week, the Camden Fringe Festival hosted the London premiere of Our Brothers In The Cloth. Written by Ronald Colfer, the play revolves a young working class man from Northern Ireland who, after the suicide of two close people from his community (one of them, his own brother), comes to the most distressing conclusion: both were altar boys, and the culprit may be, in fact, the only person no-one would ever question their trust on.

Establishing an excellent premise full of exceptional possibilities from both a dramatic and philosophical perspective, the piece manages to instigate some specks of interest through the basis of its narrative. However, none of the promises that the concept anticipates seem to be fulfilled at any point – all in all, presenting a storyline that’s able to hint some gripping, introspective themes, but whose exploration is shallowly tackled for the sake of a too linear and overly action-crumped recount.

Following the testimonies of the victim’s sibling to uncover the truth that led to that most horrifying outcome, the chances of every personage undergoing a transformative, compelling arc are almost unlimited: the unsupportive mother who can’t accept the fact that she put her own son into the clutches of evil – little by little, realising the terrible consequences of her wrongdoing for purposely turning the blind eye; the belligerent son trying to escape from a household built on lies and ignorance; or the priest having to come to terms with his own faith and the actions of those who serve as their advocates, but fail to represent it as intended.

Yet, the account moves forward with too much of a rushed pace, leaving next to no moments where the personages are able to reflect and, most importantly, evolve. In addition, the dialogue is slightly flawed by what, in general, feels like a minor lack of flow, added to the use of some clichéd lines. On the other hand, though the structuring is functional on the whole, the transitions from scene to scene rely too much on abrupt, hyped phrase-based cuts that, far from boosting the rhythm, turn out to hurdle both its progress and naturalness instead.

In a time where the tabooed idea of men also being sufferers of rape and harassment is slowly, and fortunately, becoming a more open topic, Our Brothers In Cloth makes a most laudable effort to depict a reality that, from too many angles and sides of both the religious and political spectrum, has been sentenced to dwell in the shadows. Nonetheless, a more insightful approach is mandatory for its message to be conveyed and, ultimately, land on its viewers with the same resonance that’s already proven by its intentions. It speaks from the heart, but it needs to find the way to move it.

By Guillermo Nazara