Game Theory, Tramway, 4 Sept
Through the versatility of the actors - and some sharp writing - a fierce intensity is maintained for ninety minutes
| 08 Oct 2007
Game Theory threatens to disappear into an ungrounded series of big ideas; politicians dodge commitment, a sister bickers with her brothers until they recover a lost memory and a war criminal justifies his behaviour though patriotism and duty. The war that overshadows each of the three scenes is never named, the outcome never defined, yet through the versatility of the three actors - and some sharp writing by Pamela Carter and Selma Dimitrijevic - a fierce intensity is maintained for most of the show's ninety minutes.
Through very different scenarios, the slow processes of remembrance, acceptance and forgiveness are achingly teased out, from the cunning flim-flam of the politicians, through a torn apart family gradually coming together and - most strikingly - a reconciliation between victim and tormentor. If the finale is a little forced, and the compassion more miraculous than credible outcome, it is in the cold analysis of language that Game Theory excels. The authors take obvious delight in exposing hidden meanings, through either broad humour or subtle repetition.
Alex Rodney, Meg Fraser and John Paul Connolly are all outstanding in their multiple roles: Fraser, in particular, gives a murderous edge to her journalist-cum-war criminal. With the play so light on action and full of sharp dialogue, they keep the pace tight and the innuendos flying. Given the weight of the ideas in each segment - and their nominal connection to each other - the overall performance feels over-long and heavy, and the light humour of the first act is dissolved by later monstrosities. However, Ek Performance deserve plaudits for a modern script that isn't undermined by formalism or stilted prose. [Gareth K Vile]
Through very different scenarios, the slow processes of remembrance, acceptance and forgiveness are achingly teased out, from the cunning flim-flam of the politicians, through a torn apart family gradually coming together and - most strikingly - a reconciliation between victim and tormentor. If the finale is a little forced, and the compassion more miraculous than credible outcome, it is in the cold analysis of language that Game Theory excels. The authors take obvious delight in exposing hidden meanings, through either broad humour or subtle repetition.
Alex Rodney, Meg Fraser and John Paul Connolly are all outstanding in their multiple roles: Fraser, in particular, gives a murderous edge to her journalist-cum-war criminal. With the play so light on action and full of sharp dialogue, they keep the pace tight and the innuendos flying. Given the weight of the ideas in each segment - and their nominal connection to each other - the overall performance feels over-long and heavy, and the light humour of the first act is dissolved by later monstrosities. However, Ek Performance deserve plaudits for a modern script that isn't undermined by formalism or stilted prose. [Gareth K Vile]
run ended