Djupid (The Deep)

Review by Ben Judge | 19 Aug 2009

Life at sea is hard. For one fisherman, it's a life made considerably harder when his ship capsizes, killing the rest of his crew and leaving him alone; bobbing hopelessly in the North Atlantic. Djupid (The Deep) is the latest play by the acclaimed Icelandic writer Jon Atli Jonasson, based on a real-life story about a shipwreck and one man’s battle to stay alive. 

Djupid centers around a group of working class fishermen with actor Liam Brennan’s monologue painting particularly affectionate portraits of their way of life; all hardy, salt-of-the-earth types who, while lacking intelligence, are good craic. 

At times it's a little cliched, but Djupid isn’t about sentimental portraiture, it’s a story of the harsh, hard side of life. It’s about the dichotomy between modern life (on land) with its consumerist obsessions and the life of those on the harsh frontier (in this case, the sea), where peril is a banal part of everyday life.

Director Graeme Maley’s English translation is, in itself, a thing of beauty. Chock full of Scottish colloquialisms, it perfectly captures that particular brand of working-class comedy north of the border: half nihilism, half gallows humour. The result is an often darkly funny play.

However, something feels amiss. This is a production that leans much more heavily on narrative than symbolism, driven by character instead of ideas, and at times feels unsatisfyingly shallow.