Darkling is an intense and incredibly important act of remembrance with a few teething problems. Rating
Good
Darkling is a ninety-minute monologue delivered by Linnea Berthelsen, as ‘She’, with no breaks or respite: an impressive feat in itself. Whilst Berthelsen demonstrates incredible stamina and energy in the face of this dramaturgical behemoth, the beginning of her performance chafes slightly. The story begins with the main character’s birth and childhood, given, as the rest of the performance is, in first person, present tense narration. But, the execution of the vast majority of the childhood story is completely over-wrought; every look, motion, line is specifically physically placed giving the whole sequence a feel melodramatically wooden.
The moments where Berthelsen takes her time, feels reflective, and approaches a moment on its own terms rather than sacrificing it to a wider choreography, are generally far more enticing. When She is eleven, in the city, her uncle takes her sister to the roof, and during this event, and content after it, Berthelsen’s approach to expression is so brilliantly subtle that she spreads a gentle creeping revulsion throughout the audience.
The beginning of the play perhaps needed more R&D to stand on its own as theatrically sound, but, in her sister’s plight and a sprinkling of other moments, potential shines through, because, at the moment, it mostly feels like dead weight that the end sections of the production must make up for, rather than adding to the impact of the narrative.
The main character’s obsession and personification of the factory on the hill looms over the entire script, and this element specifically is very well written and realised. The silhouette of a “skeleton in the sky, made of sharp metal lines” shows through the apparently concrete block that forms the back of the stage, an imposing presence excellently executed by designer Simon Kenny and lighting designer Rajiv Pattani. Titas Halder skillfully tracks an organic lifecycle of the factory throughout, “once a skeleton then alive // Now a cadaver carved open rotting”, and its presence often feels far more real than the other characters with whom She reports conversation.
Once the narrative shifts to the factory disaster itself, the play really flies, and Berthelsen comes into her own. Her anguish and fear are remarkable, made all the more real by the smoke pouring from the bricks that form the floor of the stage. Halder and director Matthew Xia find a compelling balance between narrative, and demands for remembrance and accountability.
The set was minimalistic, barren, in a way that perfectly set the scene for the industrial disaster to come. Bricks in the centre surrounded on all sides by soil left very little for Berthelsen to initially interact with, but the reveal of a well of water underneath the bricks in once place, and, at the end, a fire pit in another, were both impressive and surprising. Along with the ‘concrete’ along the back wall, Kenny creates a barren playground full of juxtaposition and possibility.
In places, the writing can be repetitive and clunky sentence to sentence, so that some sections of ‘dialogue’ (between the main character and the other characters she describes) drag. But on a larger scale, Halder has a firm hold of narrative climax which really pays off. Again, though, the play goes on a little long after the disaster, with repetitive sentiments that do nothing but disengage through their slightly condescending over-explanation. The play cannot quite sustain itself for ninety minutes, and would definitely benefit from a running time of an hour.
There is a lot of talent, passion, and important messaging that produces lovely moments throughout this production, but it needs a tad more shaping holistically, and a general leaning into dramatic moments on their own terms, rather than dramaturgical or textual over-emphasis.
Written byTitas Halder
Directed by Matthew Xia
Design by Simon Kenny
Lighting Design by Rajiv Pattani
Sound Design by Beth Duke
Composed by Niraj Chag
Movement Director: Anjali Mehra
Associate Director: Sara Aniqah Malik
Darkling plays at the Bush Theatre until Saturday 24 October
