Review: The Only Child

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Photos: Patrick Boland

POSTED: 01 OCTOBER 2009

The Only Child, by Simon Stone with Thomas Henning, inpsired by Henrik Ibsen's Little Eyolf

(B Sharp | Belvoir Street Theatre, Surry Hills, Sydney | Until 11 October)

The usher for Belvoir Street Downstairs announces the play is about to begin. He issues the warning that there is a total lockout for this production, and that there are nude scenes ... then adds, with a grin, “So you’ve already got your money’s worth.”

What he doesn’t advise you, however, is that the nakedness of emotion in The Only Child is far more confronting than the full-frontal variety.

Writer/director Simon Stone, recently seen upstairs at Belvoir directing The Promise, has collaborated with Thomas Henning to create an astoundingly raw and moving study of grief tangled up with guilt, sex and loss.

The Only Child takes its inspiration from Henrik Ibsen’s 1894 play, Little Eyolf. Stone and Henning worked with the cast to bring Ibsen’s drama about a grieving couple into the present day. The bones of the original remain, the flesh a still-evolving work especially developed for Downstairs Belvoir.

Within this space, Claude Marcos has created a set of beautiful simplicity, impeccably lit by Teegan Lee. The entire story takes place in the confines of a bathroom: a pristine white clawfoot bath centres the action; the bath is slowly filling from the showerhead as the audience enters. It’s mesmerising.

Rita (Shelley Lauman) perches on the edge of the bath, comforted by her sister-in-law, Asta (Anne-Louise Sarks). They wait for the return of Rita’s husband Alfred (Tom Wren), in self-imposed exile while he researches his book. He’s returning because their disabled son, Eyolf, is missing.

The stuff of parent’s nightmares — with the worst possible outcome. Eyolf is found drowned, and then the nightmare really begins. Rita and Alfred’s already unstable relationship, wracked with accusation and regret, begins to implode. Alfred can’t wash away his guilt and plunges into despair — and the bath.

Occasionally in theatre there are scenes that become burned into one’s memory. I can still see Alfred’s dimly lit face, contorted with anguish, as the water cascades over him. I can hear his groans of misery. Tom Wren so convincingly portrays Alfred’s desolation it feels intrusive to be watching.

Just as intimate are the scenes of recrimination between Rita and Alfred. Lauman superbly captures Rita’s anger, frustration and hopelessness. She bursts through the tiny space with her bitter invective.

If you’re wondering why go and see something that sounds so depressing and fraught, it’s not all serious. Asta’s would-be suitor, Henrik (Gareth Davies) provides absolutely delightful moments of gauche humour. Sarks is an excellent balance of supportive sister and potential disaster. Her wonderfully expressive face speaks volumes.

Usually within a review one doesn’t get around to talking about the contribution made by those responsible for ensuring costumes are ready, props are working and everything is tidied away ready for the next show — but I must mention that those involved backstage with The Only Child have a heck of a job. By the end, the stage is drenched, covered in soaked clothing and debris. They take a chaotic mess and reinstate order.

Similarly, thankfully, Rita and Alfred struggle towards redemption. The Only Child is emotionally exhausting and demanding theatre, but ultimately hopeful. The final line is perfect.

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