This is a rare play: a new piece of theatre that has a previously unexplored and untapped storyline, but with such a grounding in reality that you can relate to every single thing in it. It is also something that can be taken on so many layers and depths yet at the same time it’s hugely entertaining as well as relatable and moving.
This is Lucy’s story, of the title: a young woman who has suffered from clinical depression for countless years and has tried every type of therapy that has been offered. She is married to an emotionally distanced man who has significant problems of his own, as a soldier returning from a war zone. Granted, this doesn’t sound like it could possibly be the recipe for comedy, but it has some seriously laugh out loud funny moments, due to situations that unfold and due to the self-deprecating way she talks about herself and life in general. Her quips about every mental health technique that she’s tried, joking about them all being initials including CBT and EMDR is both true and very funny.
The story starts with her being offered a new therapy called pharmakon, meaning remedy, which is a virtual reality headset, where she can create her “happy place” in order to cope with her life. Despite there being strict controls on the timings and use, she inevitably starts overusing it as it’s ultimately a world where she is totally happy and feels loved, albeit in a make believe scenario. Here we are reminded of another meaning of the word pharmakon: poison, as the parallels between addiction and what we see unfolding for her in the story are at once totally understandable and heartbreaking. Towards the end there is a moment of such loss and sadness rarely glimpsed so powerfully on stage or anywhere: it’s breathtaking.
The acting is utterly superb. Every single person in the six-strong cast shines through character portrayal and very clever physicality. Liv Hackland plays Lucy who is so emotionally present it’s almost palpable: we feel her despair, her ups and downs, her watery eyes on the edge of tears, and her laughing at herself. The lack of connection she feels with her emotionally unavailable husband James played by Matt Vickery is so real and recognisable, as is the fact that they both do love each other underneath, they just can’t connect or communicate.
Aurea Williamson plays the contrasting doctor and Lucy’s mum so well you would be forgiven for not realising it’s the same person playing both roles. There is an astonishing scene between Lucy and her mum at a care home which is brutal and tragic and profoundly moving where Aurea Williamson is absolutely incredible. Jamie Laird has the tricky job of portraying the AI Guy, which you might think would make the character more shallow: yet it’s perfectly balanced and spot on. The times when he is paused and says the same phrase over with a slightly different ending, as Lucy tries to tweak his programme, are a joy to watch.
The other notable point is that this story occurs in lockdown, and we are instantly taken back to the time of isolation, disconnection and lack of human touch. Maia Orme completes this with her portrayal of Hayley the best friend, who gradually can’t keep up the bubbly front and shows she is also feeling the effects of this loneliness. All six balance perfectly, a joy to watch: profoundly real and relevant, poignant and funny, tragic, disconnected; lives that could be helped if only they knew how to hear each other.
This is acutely observed, perceptive, and brilliant writing by Jo Sutherland who seems to know and understand all the aspects of everything within the play. It’s directed with sensitivity and understanding by Cerys Evans, including the deftly produced lighting states during the AI scenes, which help us realise Lucy is still in the virtual world when she doesn’t know herself, then towards the end when we aren’t sure either. This is an incredible play and production from Open Handed Theatre who are ones to watch for the future.
This is a play about losing yourself, about connecting, disappearing, laughing at your life and trying everything to make it better, about PTSD, depression, how relationships work, addiction, loss, pleasure and isolation and much more. This is a humble little offering, that has no idea how good it is, and it needs to be seen by many more people: hopefully it will do just that, if not, that would be tragic indeed.
The Actors, Friday 5th April 2024
Photos by Neil Duffy
