Lauren has a story, but she is worried you might not believe it. In fact, she isn’t sure that she even entirely believes it. She needs to hear an objective person tell the story, so she has found Luke, and she hopes that hearing him tell it will clarify the truth for her and for the audience.
What is the difference between being objective and being unbiased?
This is the crux of Hannah Moscovitch’s new play Red Like Fruit, produced by 2b theatre, which plays at The Bus Stop Theatre in Halifax until April 21st, 2024.
Lauren, played by Michelle Monteith, is a journalist who has been working on a story about a disturbing case of intimate partner violence where the objective truth of what exactly happened is difficult to discern, and the people whose testimony she is collecting often offer details intertwined with their own opinions. Lauren is surprised to find this work triggering. It is literally triggering uncomfortable memories in her that she packed away and tried to move on from years ago. But now they are at the forefront of her mind, demanding her attention, and distracting her from being able to be the neutral non-partisan voice reporting the facts of this case.
Thus, Lauren recruits Luke, played by David Patrick Flemming, to narrate her experience for her, to begin on the day that these unpleasant memories, and the connections that they have spawned in her, first unpacked themselves from the dark corners of her brain, and then into a thorough analysis of the memories themselves. Lauren mostly sits in silence, listening intently to Luke recounting out loud a timeline of these events that she herself wrote. Sometimes she interjects with questions. Sometimes he looks to her for guidance or assurance that he is doing what she is asking of him correctly.
The form of the play that Moscovitch has invented for this story is a bit like an actor performing a one-person show, except that an actor playing the playwright is also onstage behind him, and the tension between the actors and the audience is partly in the question of why she isn’t the one performing the work herself.
At first we have to remind ourselves that David Patrick Flemming isn’t even inhabiting the characters that he is narrating, as an actor typically would do in a one-person show. When Luke recounts what Andrew or Justin say in defence (or clarification) of the assault that happened between Andrew and his then-girlfriend Luke is trying to just relate the facts, he isn’t trying to bring these people to life in a three dimensional way. He is trying to stay out of the story as much as possible, entirely, if possible. Is that possible? He doesn’t want his own portrayal of these people to sway you in any way, as Lauren wants you to have an objective view of them, so, at the end, you can make up your own mind about the truth.
Yet, Luke is a likeable narrator. At times he gently validates Lauren’s feelings, encouraging her to confidently connect the dots that I think many in the audience are anxious for her to connect as well. Luke is kind to Lauren at a time in her life when she really needs kindness. You can see him really trying to say the right thing, to do both what she is asking, and also maybe what she needs for him to do, maybe what is best for her? But, is that for Luke to say? Kindness aside, should he be there? Do we need him? Does Lauren need him? Should Lauren need him? But since he is there, since Moscovitch has put him there, and Flemming is playing him with a gentle openness, but also a deference to Lauren, an almost apologetic humility for being there, are we grateful that he’s able to provide this service for Lauren, and by proxy, for us?
Christian Barry directs the piece keeping Monteith’s Lauren and Flemming’s Luke within their own separate spheres. In theory Luke is performing for the audience, and Lauren could fade into the background. It is not Luke’s story, but it’s still his time to shine. But, don’t worry, that’s at Lauren’s request.
As a theatre piece, though, the audience’s focus is often pulled, purposefully, to Monteith because while Lauren isn’t usually or deliberately acting out what Luke is narrating, you can see, so naturalistically and expertly on the part of Monteith, Lauren reliving these events, as one does, in her mind’s eye. Sometimes she becomes emotional without meaning to, sometimes she reacts instinctively with fear, and sometimes she is just understandably embarrassed being onstage listening to intimate snapshots of her past being recounted like a play for an audience by Luke. This is embarrassing at times for Luke as well.
What makes a story believable? What makes Luke a “reliable narrator?” Is there a tension between the way that Lauren has written the story and the way Luke tells it? Is there a tension between the way that Moscovitch has written the story and the way Luke tells it? What if Moscovitch were onstage instead telling the story (or a story) herself? Would that still be a play?
How do we justify when it’s appropriate to hear someone’s own personal experience told through an intermediary, and when do we flag it as problematic or even inappropriate?
What is the difference between being objective and being unbiased?
Red Like Fruit plays at the Bus Stop Theatre in Halifax until April 21st, 2024.
2b Theatre’s world premiere of Hannah Moscovitch’s play Red Like Fruit plays at the Bus Stop Theatre (2203 Gottingen Street, Halifax) until April 21, 2024. Performances are Tuesday to Saturday at 7:30pm, with 4:00pm performances on Saturdays and Sundays. The show is only 75 minutes long with no intermission. There are $40.00 General Admission tickets, and $20.00 tickets for students, arts workers, and anyone for whom the $40.00 ticket price is not accessible. Conversely, you can also donate to 2b by buying a $100.00 ticket, which invests in the company’s future work. Tickets are available at this website.
Due to the nature of the story and the themes of the play, 2b recommends that Red Like Fruit is only for audiences 16 years and older. Parental guidance is required.
Latecomers won’t be able to be admitted to the performance, although re-entry is possible.
Tickets will be on sale online until 6:00pm the day of the performance. At which time the online site will close down, and any remaining tickets will be available at the door at the Bus Stop.
During the performances on Sundays April 14 & 21st CHILDCARE WILL BE AVAILABLE.
During the performance on April 17th MASKS WILL BE REQUIRED.
Note: 2203 Gottingen Street is wheelchair accessible with private, gender-neutral washrooms. The audience seating for this production will be on raised levels with steps. If you need a floor-seat/seat near the exit for accessibility purposes please email us at access@2btheatre.com and we will reserve one for you.
