Writer: Kate Heffernan
Director: Eoghan Carrick
No lights, no power, no set. Three ordinary people who live ordinary lives, stuck in spaces which are not theirs, where it feels they can leave no mark. Kate Heffernan’s new play is a bold attempt at staging the ‘normal’ in an abnormal way, concerning our need for connection and light, that sometimes feels trapped under the mundanity of jobs or relationships we aren’t passionate about. Space is cleverly used to suspend disbelief, taking place on the sets of other shows, lit dimly by laptop lights, deliveroo bags, phone lights, anything that you can pick up and take with you – never allowing the characters to fully own any part of the space they are in.
Three characters find themselves living together in a house belonging to a woman living her final days in a nursing home, secured among the limited housing services available to them in modern day Dublin. Conversations paint a non-linear story of cheese, death, takeaways, lies, singing and relationship difficulties. The purposefully limited lighting on stage creates a real sense of intimacy that rapidly builds between the characters onstage, where a slow but assured connection is established and a comfort develops as an audience member to simply allow these characters to exist, rather than holding them to expectations of entertainment for our sake.
There are many technical elements that elevate this play, from the use of sound, space and light, to the writing. An eerie, ever present landline ringing throughout the play serves as a consistent reminder that these characters do not, and will not, own this space or be able to write over the memories that were here before them. The use of both silence, and of small and specific noise, almost feels like the characters are tiptoeing around what should be their home, for the majority of the play. With the dark lighting from a ghost light centre stage and the title containing ‘Ghost’ in it, it would be remiss to omit suggesting that there is an audience expectation of thriller tropes and perhaps even a jumpscare, or a dark past uncurling itself, but this never comes. Though there is no immediate supernatural threat in this play, we do feel unease at the darkness which cleverly reflects that anxiety of always being in someone else’s space, of never being able to relax, of never feeling you are able to make your mark because it may look more like an unwanted stain on the wall of a dying woman’s home.
Belonging to spaces is something we often crave, if we are lucky enough to grow up in a home and feel we belong there, then that is a feeling we chase, or become incredibly nostalgic for. This play flips that on its head and acknowledges that need but also accentuates the need to belong to each other. The charming, mismatched personalities of the characters make for a truly believable reality that people really are just flung together sometimes and though it feels random, after meeting them you know they have changed the course or path of your life in some small or big way.
There is a lovely stream of humour, with particularly lovely moments from Shadaan Felfeli as Faniq. Though some comedic moments lack a little confidence at the beginning, there is also a charming awkwardness conveyed about meeting people for the first time and trying to become comfortable with them. The dark lighting means the energy in the room can sometimes feel low for an audience member, and so faster pacing or larger gestures at naturally higher-energy moments, could aid in creating a lively atmosphere that the characters could then build comedy off of.
This is a play full of glimpses into real life. A curious metaphor of always feeling we are in the dark, but that wherever we go there is some form of light following us.
Runs Until 13th October 2024.
The Review's Hub Score
Darkness, light, friendship
