Madagascar

The opening lines in this play, by exciting new American playwright J.T. Rogers, explain that of the many people who go missing each year a certain percentage actually choose to disappear and a large number of those do not wish to be found again. This is a difficult situation to accept for the family and friends left behind, and it’s as such we find our three characters in Madagascar, haunting a Roman hotel room and telling the tale of their reactions to the mysterious disappearance of a young man.  

Each of the characters – Lillian, an older woman (Noni Hazlehurst), June, a younger woman (Asher Keddie) and Nathan, an older man (Nicholas Bell) – tell the story of how they came to be in the room independently of one another through a series of monologues. At first, they seem unconnected, but slowly we come to understand their relationships with one another and the differing timelines they are occupying.
 
June is a tour guide whose job it is to lead an improbable number of Morristown New Jersey residents around Rome’s landmarks. She’s also a woman with a connection to her brother that is stronger than most. Lillian is June’s well-heeled, refined and worldly mother, coping with the dual loss of both her husband and son. Nathan is an academic who knew all four members of the family, some in more fatal ways than others. The characters only interact with one another when recalling past events, but even then it is in a disconnected manner, heightening the isolation, loneliness and despair the trio are feeling.
 
Lillian is by far the best-written character of the piece and Hazlehurst makes a meal of the woman’s sharp intellect and witty take on life. Her observations on the anxiety one feels when sitting next to a stranger on a plane and being asked the inevitable ‘What do you do?’ question are beautifully delivered. Hazlehurst brings real dignity and strength to a character that could easily be interpreted as weak or pathetic, and when she describes the feeling of spitting in her son’s face after he confronts her for her betrayal of his father is truly moving.
 
June, by contrast, is a far more fragile and tragic character, existing less in reality and more in her own fantasy world. Keddie is in her niche with tragedy and delves into her grab bag of angst to deliver palpable heartbreak and torment to the stage. This is nicely balanced by the warmth she injects into June’s wry sense of humour in the opening scenes.
 
As Nathan, Nicholas Bell is less successful than his co-stars and one can’t help but notice the parallels in story between this piece and MTC’s Enlightenment, performed less than three years ago in this same venue, in which Bell played a father also grieving the mysterious loss of his son. Oddly, the Assistant Director for that production is the Director here, and while Bell brings truthfulness to his portrayal, he lacks impact in his delivery.
 
Nathan’s shocking encounter with this story’s missing character is the denouement of the play and yet is presented so fleetingly amongst the strains of grief presented by the other characters, that it seems insignificant in the moment. Only when reflecting upon the story does this nugget of import slide out of the recesses and present itself as a revelation – like finding new detail in a painting upon a second viewing, or perhaps like taking a fresh look at the Eleusinian marble relief referred to in the story. 
 
This loss of detail may be a misstep, or in fact a deliberate step by director Sam Strong, in his first MTC production at the helm, but either way it doesn’t entirely detract from the otherwise delicate and deftly subtle work he has created. Strong makes excellent use of Jo Briscoe’s stark set and with Paul Jackson’s stunning lighting design creates innumerable locations and a spine-tingling atmosphere. The hotel room set features shallow indentations in the floor that are flooded at the end of the first act, creating puddles that separate the trio in the second. But it’s the way the water is lit and its surface is broken by the cast, creating symbolic ripples across the set, that is truly stunning.
 
Madagascar is a promising work from a playwright who is only just beginning to discover the strength of his powers, but it is far from being the perfect play. Perhaps its weakness lies in that too much of its mystery is resolved by the end of the first act and because we’ve already been told that that our missing character isn’t likely to be found, the inevitable conclusion feels somewhat anti-climactic. Nevertheless, the initial premise is intriguing and the entire piece is delivered stylishly. Combined with Hazlehurst’s masterful performance, which is worth the price of entry alone, this is a significant new work worthwhile of inspection.