RUBY MOON – Bladwell Productions

Where to start. Wow.

So much to unpack. So much to absorb. Or maybe I’m complicating it?

But wow.

Ok, let’s start that unpacking.

This is a wonderful, confronting, complex, absorbing, sometimes dark and utterly engaging play that examines unbearable loss and asks the question (and I paraphrase) “how can you prepare for the worst when there is always something worse than the worst you can imagine.” 

God, that’s a chilling line.

Ruby Moon is Bladwell Production’s swan song, their farewell to Goulburn.

The Production Company that started as a one off, and that has extended into a regular provider of quality Australian Theatre for Goulburn and district, has called it a day but not without closing with a powerful, testing, provocative and heart-breaking show.

Some years ago, there was a line spoken by Rachel Griffith in the TV series “6 feet under” where she said that, while every language in the world had a word for orphan, no language had a word to describe a parent who has lost a child because it is simply too horrible a thought to consider.

And it is that thought that this show explores. 

Mr and Mrs Moon are mourning the loss of their child, Ruby, who may or may not be dead.

And upon this a layered and complex story is built. At times it’s a standard whodunit with archetypal mysterious others that could have played a role in whatever happened to Ruby, at times an absurdist view of surreal conversations, observations and relationships and at almost all times an uncomfortable gut-punch  ride-along with two parents experiencing that greatest nightmare.

Or maybe the whole thing is a never ending, repeating nightmare.

Along the way there are revelations, confessions, and glimpses where you may think you’ve figured out where the narrative is heading, only to find you’re wrong. But that’s not at all because the show is vague or incomprehensible. It’s because it’s complex, evocative and confronting. The narrative moves through a number of perspectives and at times feels unconcluded but that’s because THAT is at the heart of grief and loss. As someone at the show said to me, THAT’S what it’s like for parents experiencing this.

Once again Bladwell Productions have employed a minimalist stage and have used clever and creative performative options to segue between scenes. The show begins in medias res with Mrs Moon knitting in a darkened room. Even as the house lights are undimmed, there she sits with light music playing and snippets of half-heard whispered dialogue punctuating the darkness in a not-quite eerie but slightly unsettling fashion that lures you in as the hairs on the back of your neck show their first signs of standing on end.

This particular scene, or prelude, is played out so languidly and lingeringly that it makes it clear from the outset this story will not be rushed

As we meet the Moons, realisation of their plight is delivered gradually as we begin to understand that they’ve lost a child… that their child may or may not be dead… and that the Moons are still very much living within that horrible limbo-like trauma.

This is a bravura performance by Zac Bladwell and Hannah Cotton who remain on stage for the entire show. Akin to a marathon, although I suspect a marathon may be easier, they not only perform the quite wordy dialog but weave throughout eight different characters with eight different personas, voices and quirks along the way.

Each time they need to segue, the pair meet in the middle, separate in syncopated motion, and then reunite in their new characters. It’s wonderful for its inventiveness which I expect wasn’t in the script but was rather a director’s/actor’s choice.

It is entirely fitting that these two actors sign off Bladwell Productions’ run given their extraordinary on stage chemistry and comfort with each other… a leading couple in the ilk of Spencer Tracy and Katherine Hepburn (which reminds me I need to update my pop culture references). But that chemistry is called on again and again as they progress through their line-up of disparate characters, always returning to each other.

The final scene may make you question what you thought you understood… or it may not. Which isn’t to say it doesn’t provide answers, it’s just that your conclusions may differ from the person sitting next to you. Matt Cameron’s script does not attempt to provide a simple, linear narrative, nor does he choose to  provide a simple conclusion tied up in a bow. What he does choose is to leave you thinking, and piecing together what you’ve just experienced, and potentially realising the gamut of thoughts and feelings are not meant to provide finality … a finality denied to the parents. That complexity is enthralling as the audience experiences and confronts de facto their own great fears (or even memories) of loss and grief and the stages and moods they cycle through.

The playwright is not being cleverly cryptic for a faux artistic sensibility. As mentioned before, the interwoven elements and styles seek to provide an experiential journey beyond simply clever words. Sometimes, and this is one of those times, it’s good to be left moved and overwhelmed and clutching for answers. If the best theatre is marked by making you think and feel, this script and this production delivers in spades.

If you’ve appreciated previous BP productions, you’ll love this one. It doesn’t pretend to be easy or handed to you on a platter but it features two exceptional actors delivering a story that will stay long with you, will confront you as you run along the tram tracks adjacent to actual loss and grief and make you feel appreciative of being challenged and provoked to think and feel. If all of their performances have been building to a crescendo, this is graduation day.

Like the fabled village of Brigadoon, Bladwell Productions arose somewhat magically, entertained too briefly, and is now in the process of disappearing from our sight. It was a company whose aim of providing thought-provoking Australian Theatre, made affordable to all to encourage maximum participation, embodies the noblest and most altruistic ambitions and traditions of theatre for which all involved are to be roundly applauded. We can only hope the various performers and other creatives that have featured in its presentations will continue to grace our stages in other guises… but they’re not gone yet, so please reward not only their generosity of spirit but their incredible creative talents by seeing this, their last production.