Writer and Director: Takuya Kato
Speculative fiction, especially that set within the very near future, is very rarely about the differences between now and then. It is about walking a short distance away from our own lives, turning back and taking a good look at where we actually are now.
That is certainly the case with Takuya Kato’s One Small Step, the first in a short two-play season of productions presented by Japan’s Umeda Arts Theater. Set a few years from now, the one-act play features scientists Narumi (Susan Momoko Hingley) and Takashi (Mark Takeshi Ota), both part of a project helping to colonise the moon.
The couple did not declare their romantic interest in each other to the private company they work for, nor even disclosed their later marriage, lest Narumi’s status in the project be lessened or belittled. There’s an inherent societal imbalance that’s immediately recognisable here: even though they work in different fields, a disclosure would immediately tarnish Narumi’s reputation much less than it would Takashi’s.
But things are complicated when Narumi reveals that she is seven weeks pregnant. With both scientists due to imminently travel to the moon, her pregnancy would seem to rule Narumi out, prompting her to consider a termination.
The resulting discussion highlights how, in 2024, abortion is not a fairly discussed option. As Narumi tries to present a rational thought process to her partner, Takashi counters with the assumption that his wife will give up her role on the mission, stay on Earth and raise their child. And whatever happens, and however mutual the final decision is, Narumi will be judged in ways that her husband will not.
The way the couple starts to circle each other, like opponents in a wrestling ring, is mirrored in Milla Clarke’s continuously revolving minimalist set. The live video feeds to screens above the performers’ heads seem unnecessary but highlight the anguish, determination and confusion Hingley emanates as Narumi. Attempts to find ways through – if she doesn’t have an abortion, could she still go to the moon and become the project’s first study into human pregnancy in low gravity? – are systematically shut down by her husband. What should be a joint decision becomes an impasse.
Such discussions go on in many households where women want to control the balance of their fertility and work lives. Kato’s play pushes the notion that as soon as a woman is pregnant, all further discussion should stop. What stops One Small Step from really interrogating the prospect, though, is Takashi’s character and performance.
Some of the character’s actions – he unilaterally decides to inform the couple’s boss of their relationship, marriage and now pregnancy without consulting his wife – lay bare an assumption that the “man of the house” should be the decision maker and that Narumi should be expected to fall in line. But elsewhere, the character is monotonic and impassive. Ota’s delivery drives this home, a comparatively emotionless performance next to Hingley’s thoughtful, expressive demeanour. It feels like Takashi is just one more smooth, featureless wall in the apartment rather than a living, breathing person.
That scuppers One Small Step from truly feeling like an honest, two-sided exploration of a contentious issue from all sides. Much as Narumi suggests will happen in her life, the play leaves all the weight on the wife’s shoulders while detaching the husband from a decision and its consequences.
When one partner is pregnant and the other is not, inequity is already present in the relationship. One Small Step highlights that in its forthright discussions and in the strength of Hingley’s performance. But its structure also reinforces it. When we look at ourselves from the near future, we need a little more clarity of vision.
Continues until 9 October 2024
The Reviews Hub Score
Forthright look at abortion
