Every now and then you find a piece of theatre which is so unassuming and seemingly simple, you assume it’s going to be light. And every now and then, one of those unassuming ones takes you by surprise by punching well above its weight. This is one of those times: The Approach seems disarmingly modest, and is anything but. The simplicity of conversations between friends, yet these conversations mean everything. Time passes in the blink of an eye while you watch, transfixed, to every movement, every nuance, every word.
The intriguing device that we as the audience become part of is that these three women: sisters Anna and Denise, plus their friend Cora, only meet in pairs. So we become the privileged listeners to the conversations where we see it all, or at least as much as there is to see; whereas they choose to share things with one and not the other, or the story becomes very different depending on who they are telling it to. It makes us wonder: are they lying? Or are the feelings they talk about in these snapshots in time different, depending on how much time has passed when they talk? You might find yourself reflecting on your own life, how after time passes you might change your mind about someone, or review how you feel about someone.
The piece also has such humour in it, much of which is incidental, but one thread running through it is the romantic crossword which is both hilarious and a little sad. Anna tells it genuinely; but then Cora and Denise both take it and call it their own story: showing such longing for romance as well as wanting to impress the person they are talking to. You find yourself wondering what the actual truth is behind any of what they talk about and that is entirely the point: there is no truth, there is each of their different perspective; which changes over time.
There’s no two ways about it: this is a stunning piece of writing by Mark O’Rowe. It’s incredibly well observed about how much we don’t say, as well as what we do say. It’s so very real and gripping and human, how we tell our truths to ourselves and how we hold on to feelings about people or situations, and the tighter we hold, the more these feelings will change and wriggle and slip. It’s the promises we make to each other to meet up more often, then just don’t, despite meaning those words at the time. And the ending of the play is such a penny drop moment: we’ve been focussed on wanting a resolution to the sisters, but suddenly realise we should have paid more attention to Cora’s story, for which we need an outcome. Ending as it begins, we feel the weaving cyclical nature of ever changing life.
This is a beautifully imagined piece with superb direction from Mark Wilson. He allows the play to shine through the setting: the same table, yet different places, achieved with subtle lighting changes by Strat Mastoris and Chris Dent which includes the shadow of window blinds in the scene where the sisters finally meet: which becomes is a lovely metaphor for both speaking and hearing between the lines of what’s being said.
The three actors are incredible: Charly Sommers as Cora, Samantha Ferree as Anna, and Sophie Dearlove as Denise; all bringing such fully rounded characters with the wealth of backstory that you can feel. Samantha and Sophie have similar ways of sitting at times, and of intonation of their similar reactions; which is such a lovely added detail showing them as sisters. The repeated scene is so cleverly done it’s as if you are watching a replay: it is exactly the same, in every detail, every lean over by Charly, every move of hands. The audience are captivated by every word throughout: there is no lull and no dull point. A stunning piece of theatre in every aspect: production, play, and acting; that will leave you ruminating and cogitating about what we say and what we don’t say, long after the play has finished.
New Venture Theatre, 29 March 2025
Photos credit: Strat Mastoris
