THE CRESCENT Company set up the Ron Barber studio auditorium as a horseshoe for Stef Smith’s ‘Swallow’ with audience on three sides of a white floor.
The lighting preset makes the stage floor appear like an ice rink. This brought a smile on entrance, having spent the past two days watching our skillful ‘curlers’ win medals at the Winter Olympics.
As ‘Swallow’ is a play I did not know, but was aware it concerned itself with dark personal issues, I thought smiles would be in short supply for the next 75 minutes – but we all know what ‘assumption’ did.
There are three players in ‘Swallow’ – all on separate journeys which intersect at times and get close to (but not quite) merging at others. These journeys however are not about the how or the before – they are solely concerned with the now.
Take Rebecca, played by Emma Friend, probably the most straightforward of the three stories. Husband has left and she is enraged, lonely, frustrated and humiliated – plus all the emotions in between. Friend is believable to the point that we all know a Rebecca, a friend who is best avoided ’til they pick themselves up and dust themselves off ‘– as the song goes. We tut at her and laugh with her.
Then there’s Anna, who’s on a much more complex journey. Barefooted Beth Gilbert tiptoes her way through an all-consuming depression. As these things so often do, it started with something minor – a missed bus. Darkness descends until Anna discovers a ‘Harvey–like’ chum – in her case a sad-eyed wounded Pelican. Gilbert delivers without wailing and engages effortlessly.
Finally there is Sam – a boy trapped inside a girl’s body who is coming to terms with himself. Abigail Westwood brings a glorious gaucheness to Sam’s evolution. She starts with her true self in limbo, outside her body and gradually draws him in until the two merge. Quiet of voice and unhurried of movement this is riveting stuff. The vignette where Sam gets beaten up to near death by homophobic thugs brought with it a dry throat and wet cheeks.
Perfect casting yes but that of course is only one part of the process. Liz Plumpton is a director who knows how to cultivate her text, digging deep for the gems and getting her cast to present them sagaciously. As Stef Smith offers absolutely zero stage direction in her script, Plumpton takes full advantage of turning a blank canvas into a landscape of her own interpretation without fear of upsetting the wordsmith.
The dialogue is often repetitious – maybe just a word repeated over and over again. Most times Plumpton opts to have it delivered at the pace of a machine gun and then occasionally in a rhythm that brings a smile or a gasp.
The same with the action – Plumpton moves all three stories at different paces and that really works. What could be a cacophony is more often than not a shrewd orchestration. Each movement has a purpose and offers up little signposts. This makes for plots where there are none and hope where there is bleakness.
Smith wrote ‘Swallow’ to perform at the Edinburgh Fringe seven years ago – way before we spent two years acting out our own oft-bewildering hermit-like Covid lives.
Its relevance today is ironic – many souls have felt suicidal – too many have fallen. Many more are scarred and in honesty we are all in the process of healing. Just like it must have felt after the last world war.
‘Swallow’ ends joyously and the smile returns as we leave the ‘Curling arena’ knowing that order has been fragilely restored to the lives of our trio.
With this production and the accompanying play ‘A Number’ by Caryl Churchill, the Crescent offers some unique theatre going in their Studio fortnight. If you’re passionate about the stage then make a visit part of your arts rehabilitation footprints.
Swallow runs until March 5. Click here for times, tickets and more information.
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