Opening two days after
I Am The Wind
at the Young Vic, here is another 70-minute two-hander with a
personal/abstract juxtaposition in its title, about individuality and
relationships both personal and with the wider world. However, Naomi
Wallace’s play achieves everything that Jon Fosse wanted to but failed,
and more besides.
In fact, this is not strictly a two-hander:
two pairs of actresses play Dee and Jamie at the teenage beginning and
older end of their nine-year prison sentences. But one almost forgets
that Cat Simmons is alternating scene by scene with Cherrelle Skeete
and Sally Oliver with Lauren Crace, until the final scene brings them
simultaneously on to the Finborough’s compact stage for an exquisitely
and not at all hackneyed juxtaposition of youthful hopes and mature
despair.
Wallace uses the full spectrum of expression to show
Dee and Janie’s friendship from its initial stages through to its
culmination. They talk directly, obliquely, oppositely or not at all:
we see their bond from all angles. My initial, habitual reservations
about this portrait evaporated in the second scene when young Dee,
determined to make friends with Jamie and truthfully persistent rather
than pushy, replied to a rebuff with the defiant simplicity of “I’m too
dumb to walk away”. As they hatch plans for their life on the outside,
when they will live together and get jobs as domestics, they instruct
each other in subservience. This is not, however, the Genet-maids
wavelength of dominance/submission (although they do beat each other
for infractions); rather, they seem to be training themselves for
stoicism if not outright martyrdom. For this is 1950s America, probably
somewhere in the south, and Dee is white and Jamie black; as their
older selves find, they cannot even walk along a street together
without it being assumed that Dee, shabby as she is, is the mistress
and Jamie her maid.
Caitlin McLeod’s production is appropriately
unfussy: whether in the cell of even- or the boarding-house room of
odd-numbered scenes, the matter is two people in a confined space,
confined both physically and by the intangible rules and prejudices
beyond those four walls. Like Fosse’s play, this is about company and
isolation, about the one, the two and the world, but where Fosse sets
himself all at sea, Wallace plants in rich, alluvial soil.
Written for the Financial
Times.