Review: THE SOUND OF ABSENCE, Omnibus Theatre

The sudden passing of her father kick-starts a profound identity crisis in Lenore. Why didn’t her life dramatically change when he died? She remembers witnessing what the loss of a parent did to a schoolmate when she was younger, that instant transformation into a shell of who she was beforehand. She’s angry that she doesn’t feel any differently about him than she did when he was alive.

Music and movement accompany the poetic exegesis of Yanina Hope’s relationship with her parents. It could be a delicate investigation of the aftermath of death; it’s well written and creative, but there isn’t much narrative pull to it. Autobiographical theatre always runs the risk of being too self-indulgent to see its shortcomings.

As she dissects her dilemma, Hope exchanges a sorrowful delivery for brief moments of passion. She recollects the sweeter instances she shared with her family, days at the beach and other displays of love, before diving headfirst into the unwavering criticism and alienation she felt in the household. A heart surgeon with an untreated heart condition, her dad was the typical patriarch and definitely doesn’t come off as the easiest person to live with.

Hope introduces him not as a villain, but more like a fearsome natural element: unstoppable and often disastrous. That’s the extent of it, unfortunately. She offers anecdotal experiences, but barely analyses them under a universal lens, opting to picture how that impacted her life as an adult. We’re pushed to ask, why should we care?

Dylan Thomas’s “Do not go gentle into that good night” comes back over and over as a critique of Hope’s feelings towards her father. The writing falters between smooth poetry and prosaic turns of phrase. Her regrets are immediately squashed by her justifications, but any deeper thematic meaning is never reached. The personal introspection is extensive, but hardly revelatory. In essence, it’s a 75-minute therapy session for Hope. Whether we should be involved or not is a different question.

Directed by Ivanka Polchenko, The Sound of Absence also tends to run longer than it should. Vladyslav Kuznetsov’s compositions are beautiful, but they extend the play beyond its logical scripted runtime without adding further insight. Abstract grey-scale projections wash over the traverse stage during these musical interludes, sometimes pairing with soporific physical sequences. As the general pace is quite sluggish and the narration rather flat, regrettably, it’s difficult to find any emotional excitement or transcendence in the storytelling.

The Sound of Absence runs at Omnibus Theatre until 28 February.