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Stuart King

Review: THE CONFESSIONS National Theatre, Lyttelton

The National Theatre Lyttelton’s stage currently conveys places and situations pivotal in the life experience of one particular Australian woman. Her journey starts as uncertain-yet-optimistic schoolgirl in 1943 and onwards as she abandons uni under pressure from her mother, endures (then ends) an unhappy marriage, indulges a love of art, is raped, travels, and finally finds happiness with an older man in London before having his children and losing him to the natural order of things.

The Confessions - Lilit Lesser, Jerry Killick, Pamela Rabe, Eryn Jean Norvill, Joe Bannister - Photo by Christophe Raynaud de LageThe Confessions - Lilit Lesser, Jerry Killick, Pamela Rabe, Eryn Jean Norvill, Joe Bannister - Photo by Christophe Raynaud de Lage

Alexander Zeldin’s capacity to research and create stories where raw human fragility, vulnerability, power, anger (and every other emotion) are on display from the off, is beginning to reach a much wider audience these days since his tentative forays nearly a decade ago. Here, through scrupulous editing and transcription of interviews with his mother (and possibly others), he has meticulously crafted a central female character who holds us spellbound with her mundane realities, disappointments, restraint and momentary explorations of her wilder self. The effect of watching Eryn Jean Norvill in the central role, is akin to being wrapped in an emotional corset. We can barely breathe on occasions as situations envelop her and self-will evaporates, leaving only doubts and faltering courage with which to face her realities. Pamela Rabe as her mother (and various other exceedingly diverse roles), adds weight to scenes which include parental complicity in forcing a young women into a marriage of convenience. Joe Bannister and Brian Lipson play the extremes of male companionship and the remainder of the cast are universally strong in this tightly woven ensemble piece which taps depth in human interactions and the heartache which results from squandered time and the missing of fleeting opportunities.

Together with members of the stage crew, the cast (which includes Amelda Brown as the older narrator self), move furniture, mattresses, carpets and cookers with the sort of choreographed fluidity borne of detailed and committed rehearsing. The end result is faultless, surprising and superb… the theatrical equivalent of Lars von Trier’s seminal movie Dogville.