{THEATRE} Reviews
2401 OBJECTS Remarkable neuroscience story ●●●●●
This piece of devised theatre tells the story of the man with the most famous brain in the world, Henry Molaison, or patient HM as he became known to the international medical community that studied him for decades before he died. Molaison was born in Connecticut, America in 1926 and suffered from debilitating epilepsy from his childhood. In 1953 his parents agreed to surgical treatment and a neuroscientist named William Beecher Scoville operated on his temporal lobes, removing his two hippocampuses, the parts of the brain that process new experiences and turn them into memories. Subsequent to that procedure, Molaison could no longer make new memories and he spent the rest of his life in a care home, dying in 2008.
2401 Objects contrasts Moliason’s largely happy pre- operation life, focusing on his relationship with his loving parents and his burgeoning romance with the girl next door, and post-op, when he became a tragic figure unable to retain memories beyond a few moments including the news that his parents had died many years ago. Molaison’s story is a very sad one, but this show frames it in a way that celebrates patient HM through the narration of Dr Jacopo Annese, the neuroscientist who sliced Molaison’s brain into 2401 pieces allowing the medical community to greatly advance our understanding of amnesia.
The way in which the show is devised – cutting back and forth in time and replaying scenes over and over again – cleverly approximates Molaison’s unique medical condition. The narrative confusion is underscored by the cast of three constantly switching roles and by a giant moveable screen onto which various backdrops are projected. If there’s one criticism of 2401 Objects it’s that is feels slightly rushed. Otherwise, it’s cleverly conceived, smartly executed and emotionally engaging. (Miles Fielder) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 28 Aug (not 16, 23), 4.40pm, £10–£12 (£9–£11).
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DEATH SONG Intense story of loss and secrets ●●●●●
ELEGY Moving story of a flight from persecution ●●●●● THE INFANT Absurdist comedy with a Gothic feel ●●●●●
L A V I T S E F
Focusing on a bereaved father and daughter in the 1980s, Death Song is engaging and impeccably performed. Juan, a single father following the death of his wife, is a Mexican immigrant in America struggling to get work and keep his daughter safe, when a new love finds its way into his life. Juan’s daughter attempts to deal with the emotional fallout of seeing her father move on with another women, and her own confusing adolescence – but things are not quite what they seem, with the true gravity of the family’s situation seeping out over the course of the play. Backed by a multi-instrumentalist creating ambient
sounds with loop and effects pedals, the actors multi-task, adding sounds to complement mimed actions happening onstage – tooth brushing, television, cooking. The small cast make the meagre floor space
operate as many sets at once, with certain characters freezing in order to allow action to continue in an implied alternative location. It’s an intense, visual display and an impressive, enjoyable hour. (Lauren Mayberry) ■ Udderbelly’s Pasture, 0844 545 8252, until 28 Aug (not 15), 6.35pm, £10–£11 (£9–£10).
78 THE LIST 11–18 Aug 2011
The last time Douglas Rintoul was in Scotland was to direct a revival of David Greig’s Europe at Dundee Rep. There’s something of the flavour of that migratory play in this powerful production for the internationally minded Transport company, as actor Jamie Bradley tells the story of a refugee traversing the no-man’s land of empty train stations, border crossings and bomb-blasted towns, a man wanted neither by his own country nor anyone else’s. Based on true stories of homophobic persecution
in Iraq, Elegy is a compassionate study of a man enduring brutality, fear and exploitation. He is no more guilty of sin than a left-handed man in a right- handed world, yet his repression becomes so extreme he can scarcely articulate his reasons for fleeing even to himself.
Staged simply and strikingly in a white-cube gallery
space on a long bed of discarded clothes, like the shadows of so many human lives, the play avoids the tub-thumping obviousness of some human- rights drama in preference for Bradley’s vivid storytelling with its clever interweaving of narrative strands and understated humanity. (Mark Fisher) ■ Whitespace, 226 0000, until 28 Aug (not 16, 23), 8.30pm, £10 (£7).
Maestros of the dark fairytale, Les Enfants Terribles (who brought us Ernest and the Pale Moon and The Terrible Infants), bring back to Edinburgh a play they debuted here in 2006. In a cell in an unnamed location a man is subjected to an interrogation, his crime unknown. His questioners exude an off-kilter menace: Samedi (Anthony Spargo) is well-dressed, well-spoken and sinisterly well-mannered; Castogan (Martyn Dempsey) is his brutish sidekick. A wickedly funny Kafka-esque trial ensues, eventually drawing the man’s wife into the accusations.
Little has changed since the 2006 show. New staging augments the atmosphere created by writer/director Oliver Lansley, a chilling Gothic noir reminiscent of Tim Burton and Neil Gaiman. The persecuting double-act, bringing to mind Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, really shine with Spargo’s incarnation on Samedi the highlight of the show. Yet the same flaws are present and as the investigation slips into a repetitive pattern the pace flags. It is a small complaint about an otherwise witty, mirthful and intriguing absurdist sketch about the immutability of truth. (Suzanne Black) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 29 Aug (not 15 & 16), 2.35pm, £10–£11 (£9–£10).