Written thinly, couple is more vapid than sexy
Permanence (out of 4) By Cyd Casados, directed by Hannah Price. Until Aug. 6 at Tarragon Theatre Extraspace, 30 Bridgman Ave. tarragontheatre.com or 416-531-1827
This two-hander has been produced in different versions over the past seven years in various Fringe theatres in London, U.K., but despite all that development time it’s not clear what author Cyd Casados is really trying to communicate through it.
This Canadian premiere is produced by London-based Libby Brodie Productions.
Rebecca (Samantha Michelle) is a doctor who likes commitment-free sex. Steve (Ludovic Hughes) is a painter whose career takes off once they start sleeping together. They are both conventionally attractive and, in Hannah Price’s tight production, convincingly communicate passion for each other.
Things go right for a while between them and they grow closer. Rebecca starts painting. She loses her job at the hospital for having slept with an 18-year-old patient dying of cancer (“He was just so sweet”), but if the intention is to explore or take a crit- ical position on her lack of an ethical compass as communicated by this particular misreading of the Hippocratic Oath, it is not delivered upon.
Rather, after a bit of surface-level soul-searching, she readily accepts Steve’s offer to become his assistant. They both continue to sleep around. She improves as a painter; their relationship deteriorates.
There are potentially interesting, though in no way groundbreaking, themes hinted at: about the line between sex positivity and addiction; about the relationship between personal and professional passions; how dysfunctional upbringings (Rebecca had one) affect adult lives.
But characterization and relationship are written very thinly. It seems as if the couple is meant to be sexy and mysterious, but the characters come off as vapid.
The play’s set in late ’90s New York, but this time and place aren’t made significant; very little comment is made about the city or art world milieu other than familiar platitudes (“you’re only as good as your last show”).
Price is clearly a director with chops: She calibrates the pace and tone of the scenes well, and turns scene changes into an opportunity to further communicate the characters’ evolving relationship. They’re played in dim light with the pair focused intently on each other. Design by Echo Zhou (sets) and Chris Malkowski (lights) does strong work in evoking a ratty artist’s garret.
Michelle and Hughes offer credible naturalistic performances, but as the material becomes more and more clichéd (the butterfly is used as a metaphor for her freedom) it’s increasingly difficult to take the evening seriously.
Time and place aren’t made significant; little comment is made about the city or art world milieu other than familiar platitudes