Ering Harrington reviews The Raft, by Carl Nixon, directed by Julian Anderson, presented by Canterbury Repertory Theatre at the Elmwood Auditorium, Wednesday 20 Nvomber, 2024.
Carl Nixon’s emotional drama about grief, memory, and forgiveness The Raft brings together a shattered family on a terrible anniversary. Mark (Matt McMenamin) and Tonia (Emma McBride) suffered through the accidental death of their young son two years prior. Tonia is doing her best to adapt to this new post-Liam life, but Mark is haunted by memories of his son, and has descended into a deep, angry depression. Tonia brings Mark out to his family’s isolated West Coast cabin with an ulterior motive: to force Mark to spend time with his estranged parents, mum Shirley (Helen Moran), and father Jack (Dimitri Gibara). Mark blames Jack for Liam’s death; Jack suffered a disabling stroke shortly after the funeral, and still struggles to move well or communicate clearly.
The small cabin, as designed by Pim Van Duin, is a character in its own right. The family dwelling has been neglected – a key metaphor – and water runs through the roof and walls, messing with the wiring, and soaking through the carpets and furniture like an accusation. Out on the nearby lake, which is represented physically with bunched bolts of fabric, bobs a raft that becomes a symbol of isolation and anxiety – a place of sanctuary that’s just out of reach.
When a storm washes out the road, the family is trapped. They circle each other like wary cats. Mark and Jack, in particular, must finally exorcise some of their demons, in turn dealing a lifetime’s worth of anger and misunderstandings. Nixon’s script is an exploration not just of the complexity of grief, but of a certain type of uncommunicative Kiwi masculinity and differing generational priorities. It illustrates the love, work, and vulnerability that is required to truly see and connect with the others around us.
Julian Anderson’s considered production moves the characters carefully in and around the cramped cabin and its environs, pushing the action forward through unavoidable, uncomfortable interactions. Place and space are a fifth character in The Raft, and while the central cabin feels very mildewy and lived in, the production has curiously chosen to largely avoid atmospheric technical elements that would offer a sense of the oppressive, sodden West Coast environment, bar some very quiet environmental sound. I also feel pushed out of the moment by extended silent blackouts between scenes, and some very literal interpretations of some of the script’s more abstract, dreamlike elements. All impact pace and the work’s arc.
All that said, the actors give heartfelt, focused, and physical performances. They perform with integrity, each embracing their personal moments of disclosure and choice. I can feel audience members around me invested and responding to some of the play’s affecting moments. The performers also deal admirably with sustained disruptions – a phone that rings, and rings, and rings, and two very rude audience members who inexplicably talk throughout much of the high-stakes second act. Honestly.
I particularly enjoy the warmth and ease with which Moran and McBride explore their wife / mother-in-law relationship. You can feel the love they have for one another as they secretly sip gin and crack jokes, giving us a clear picture of the time ‘before’, as well as the work each has done to try to hold everything together. Mark and Jack’s dynamic is much more fraught, and laced with violence. McMenamin and Gibara embrace the complexities and physicality of the dynamic. The play starts with emotions so high and on the surface, though, that there’s not much room for movement; Mark’s also a tough character in that he’s being (frankly) a real asshole. Perhaps there is more room for light, shade, and interiority as the production settles, so that the play’s surprising disclosures and emotional beats have more space to breathe.
I greatly appreciate Repertory’s programming of this excellent play, though. I look forward to seeing more similarly chewy material, and quality local scripts, in the future.
The Raft plays until Saturday 30 November, 2024.
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