Review: MACHU PICCHU Reinforces The Imperative Of Carpe Dium

Reviewed by Barry Lenny, Friday 15th April 2016

State Theatre of South Australia, with the Sydney Theatre Company and Flinders University, are now presenting Sue Smith's play, Machu Picchu, directed by State theatre's Artistic Director, Geordie Brookman. The play is focussed on a couple, Paul and Gabby, their daughter, Lucy, who is a doctor in the hospital to which he has been taken, their close friends, Marty and Kim, and a psychologist, Lou.

Paul and Gabby are in a car when a kangaroo appears in the headlights. Swerving to avoid it, Gabby loses control and hits a tree. She is unharmed but he ends up in hospital, where we find him still unconscious after surgery, and quite likely to be a quadriplegic. From here the play alternates between the present and flashbacks to times in their past, from their first sexual encounter, to their marriage, to having a child, through to the crash.

The ancient Incan city of Machu Picchu (pronounced Mar-chu Pick-chu) was, from the very beginning of their relationship, somewhere that they planned to visit, sometime after they finished their university studies in engineering, and that plan, which never eventuated, is a recurring motif throughout the play. Their interest is in its intricate architectural engineering, the 15th Century citadel being built of stone blocks so finely polished that no mortar was used, or needed. To reach it, there is an old Incan footpath that leads high into the Andes in Peru, to 2,430 metres or 7,970 feet above sea level, which they had planned to walk together. There are now easier routes for less enthusiastic tourists, incidentally.

In the retrospective segments we see the idealistic love that begins their relationship, and hear their promises along the way never to lose feelings associated with the significant moments. Their careers progress, she becoming a lecturer and he going to Myanmar regularly to donate his time and skills to improving water resources. It is only after accident that Gabby asks Paul when their marriage was really over, and says that it had happened long before the accident. That exploration of drifting apart, their individual lives and careers taking precedence over their relationship, we discover has been a gradual occurrence over a long time. Their daughter, Lucy, was not exactly neglected, but was given little parental love or attention as the two of them invested their time into their careers first.

Lisa McCune is Gabby, and we see the play largely through her eyes and her memories. She gives a strongly emotive performance with everything from the euphoria of young love, to the terror at the thought of losing Paul, to the depression with the full understanding of the ramifications, to the anger at his wish to die, and more. It is a master class in acting watching her in this play.

Darren Gilshenan plays Paul, a difficult role as he has to regularly switch between being a bedridden patient with no movement, and his younger fully active self. More so than that, he is expected to show a very gradual improvement, gaining a little movement in his arms and hands, yet not enough to function unaided. Gilshenan navigates all of these physical requirements with great skill. He, too, is a lesson for acting students.

Together, they take us on that life's journey, from meeting at university to the sudden and devastating change in both their lives. The emotions at first appear to be constant happiness before the car crash, but all is not as it seems. Their conversation in the car already shows problems. This exposition of their relationship gives these two sensational actors a lot to work with, and they waste nothing.

Marty and Kim are rather one-dimensional characters, and one cannot understand why two successful civil engineers with a reasonable level of intellect would hang around with them. He is loud-mouthed and incredibly insensitive, still holding on to the style of a university student, and she is totally self-centred and not the brightest of people. How, if indeed they did, get through university is a mystery. They are the sort of people that are very easy to dislike at first sight, even as stage characters. It is not entirely clear what function they perform in the play that could not be achieved without them, other than to point out that Paul and Gabby had apparently had a better life than they did, up until the accident, and to introduce Lou. This gives Elena Carapetis and Luke Joslin, who play these roles, an uphill climb from the start.

Not that this bothers them too much, being the total professionals that they are. The temptation to either play stereotypes, or caricatures, is neatly avoided and, although Marty and Kim are rather obnoxious, in the hands of Carapetis and Joslin they are, at least, authentic.

Joslin presents an immature Marty, still wishing he could party like his university days, and taking every opportunity to try to regain those days when he had no responsibilities. He misses every opportunity to really relate to and communicate with his wife, Kim, to his own detriment.

Carapetis creates a character for Kim who is single-minded about becoming a mother, at the expense of everything else, taking one course of IVF treatment after another, but with no success. It has entirely taken over her life and alienated her from Marty, who clearly doesn't care either way, as well as closing doors on any other life experiences The agony in her eyes shows that Carapetis can do a lot with a little.

There is little depth at all in the writing for Lucy, either, and not a great deal better for Lou, who is a figure of ridicule when they attend his self-awareness retreat, but later becomes the one person to whom Paul can relate. Lucy seems to be there only to point out that she lacked attention as a child, and to explode at Paul when he hits a deep level of depression and contemplates assisted dying, asking her if she can give him the drugs that he needs to escape his torment. Annabel Matheson is wasted in such a role, and Renato Musolino is worthy of far more substantial roles than that of Lou, as we have seen many times in the past. One cannot help wondering how this would work as a two-hander, with one act of around ninety minutes.

That said, Matheson offers some very fine work as the concerned daughter, whose fear is based in her knowledge as a doctor. This could be simply a stereotype but Matheson rises above the minimal script and fleshes out a character of her own devising.

Musolino also makes far more of his role than the lines might suggest, cementing his reputation as one of Adelaide's finest actors and teachers. Once the rather silly wellness workshop scene is out of the way and he interacts more seriously as a psychologist with Gabby, and then Paul, we see him at his best and get a taste of what he can do with some decent dialogue.

This is not as convincing as Sue Smith's play, Kryptonite, that we saw here not too long ago but, with luck, she will make a few changes before future productions. Nevertheless, Geordie Brookman has cast six very fine actors and his clear and decisive direction has pulled the script together in such a way that, between the seven of them, the performance is well worth attending.

There are many passages where the script is strong and the emotion rides high, and the odd sniffle can be heard around the audience. A blue pencil and some strong dramaturgy would do wonders for this script as it does not yet feel quite ready for public presentation. Even though it does not cover any new ground or offer greater insights, there is much that is commendable. The ending is very powerful and affecting, and sends the audience out with emotions stirred.

The set is cold and austere, and as welcoming as any hospital, thanks to Jonathan Oxlade, who has the audience's left side of the stage hidden behind forbidding hospital curtains, and the other half like a dreary hospital corridor. This, and his costume design, is very effective, particularly as it is coupled with a lighting design from that master of creating an effect, Nigel Levings. Composer, Alan John, and sound designer, Andrew Howard, add their finishing touches to what is a superb piece from both the performance and production design aspects. Do go and see it for yourself, as my thoughts about the shortcomings of the script were not shared by others who attended and, I am sure, you will find plenty to recommend it.

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