There is something joyous about seeing abstract done well, and the world of Mixie is created with an enviable level of attention to detail in both the surreal and real. The play is set in reality, albeit a timeless one; the house they live in, or perhaps it is just one room, with a fireplace and food on the table and books in the bookcase. Everything about their world is real, and yet from this grounded place the whole piece becomes more and more strange. Like great jazz having stability at its core before one instrument can go off on an improvised solo, this completely real scene helps contrast the surreal events within it perfectly.

The challenge with great art is in the mind of the beholder; and like that, this keeps you constantly on your toes trying to work out what’s going on. As soon as you think you know, something else happens to challenge it. It’s a refreshing and balming wakeup call for the brain to admit that not everything needs to be explained, that stories don’t have to be clear in what they are conveying, because the point is for the audience to make what they will of it. There’s no doubt about it, if Mixie doesn’t leave you a little confused, you are not paying attention.

Janice Jones and Culann Smyth play Mrs and Mr Bick, the very elderly couple who are the sum of all their years in togetherness, where they know each other so well that a word or a look holds masses of meaning. They are completely convincing as the couple grown old together presenting childlike behaviour at times, symptoms of dementia, mental health issues, co-dependency, fear of abandonment, and more than a smidgeon of toxicity. They also do deeply care for each other, evident through everything they do. What is actually going on between them and who is this mystical Mixie who we see through Tom Bick’s eyes looking at pools of light on the floor, and hearing the wonderfully eerie soundscape moving around the theatre?

There is a sudden moment of perspective when their domestic help arrives to clean, bringing her headphone attached dancing daughter with her. This is creatively played with fierceness and disgust by Justine Smith, who bosses the Bicks about and very quickly shows herself as a bully. Is she related to them? Perhaps a daughter? She tidies the food away and mops the floor, all the while complaining about the noise, when she is the only one talking.

Gradually we realise the vulnerability of the couple’s isolation, that this woman is clearly horrible to them, and they have no power to do anything about it. We’ve been seeing their world from their point of view where they have autonomy, and suddenly all that is taken away and we see their world looking in. This is one of the many places which highlights the expertise of Mary Melwood’s writing, and the deft direction by Rod Lewis. The end scene with motionless Mrs Bick backlit and silhouetted in the doorway after chaos in the room is one of utter beauty.

There are as many possibilities of what’s really going on as there are audience members watching, and that’s the point. Creatively showing us that we see things as we are, what mirrors for us, rather than as they actually are, because nobody can work it out in this play. Yet there are moments of laughter, of profundity and quirkiness here that you’d be hard pressed to think of getting anywhere else. It’s a gripping production, and a deeply rewarding experience to watch it, and if you can park any need for concrete answers as to what’s going on, an incredible journey.

New Venture Theatre, 12 November 2024
Mixie runs until 16 November 2024
Photos credit: Strat Mastoris