This Is Paradise @ Traverse Theatre
Amy Molloy gives a stellar performance in this one-woman monologue weaving a brutally unapologetic tapestry of a woman’s inner psyche
The personal and political dance together in a mystic swirl in Michael John O'Neill’s searing psychodrama, This is Paradise: a one-woman monologue weaving a brutally unapologetic tapestry of a woman’s inner psyche. The show stratifies the nature of identity, asking pressing questions about relationships and duty with a stellar performance from Amy Molloy as Kate.
Kate tracks down an ex-lover and is forced to process the lingering trauma parasitically leaching off of the memory of her relationships. Ireland celebrates peace in the backdrop; the signing of the Good Friday Agreement after centuries of political struggle is excruciatingly jarring when juxtaposed with her inner turmoil. The world around her demands peace, but she feels anything but that.
It is not just her mental landscape that is disintegrating to rubble – Kate must also come to terms with her physical illness. The polarisation of corporeal and mental suffering is devastating. Both are balanced perfectly; each sphere of her trauma is a planet revolving around her. They pass; they interact; they are each impossible to understand in isolation.
O’Neill’s language is crafted gorgeously. In a free-flowing stream of consciousness, Kate’s emotions ebb and flow. Her performance is always organically tied to the language, allowing her to take total control of the script and its dramatic punches. She carries the audience with every word.
Director Katherine Nesbitt’s unpretentious staging is sleek but thought-provoking. Molloy performs the monologue seemingly on the edge of a fragmenting cliff. The cracks in the white stage are a rich bloody red, the threat of violence marauding beneath the surface but also evoking the call of the sea; its tranquillity and its intensity echo in the distance. The imagery is chillingly ambiguous: faint images of waves are sometimes projected over her. Is it her desperation for stillness? Or the urge to throw herself over the edge?
This Is Paradise, Traverse Theatre (Traverse Two), until 28 Aug, various times, £5-22