THROUGH THE EMBERS – Lieder Theatre

DIRECTOR: Cara Robinson
PLAYWRIGHT: Cara Robinson

Photos: Peter Oliver Imagery

One of the most destabilising things about having your world being torn apart by overwhelming trauma, where everything is turned upside down and inside out, isn’t just what’s happening to you internally. It’s also about the world around you, how you are treated, how you are observed and judged, how you adjust to your new world and how it adjusts to you

Those are some of the threads Cara Robinson weaves together in the raw, intimate and vulnerable play “Through the Embers” she has written and directed, showing at the Lieder Theatre on Friday 26 and Saturday 27 September.

Through the Embers traces two stories in parallel that deal with great trauma and the process of dealing with the secondary traumas of community reactions, of being disbelieved, and finding out how truly loved you are by your loved ones.

The story unfolds gradually and doesn’t provide an instant information dump up front. As we meet the characters, the audience tries to piece together who these people are and how they inter-relate. That lack of rush deepens the individual moments and compels audience attention as they are drawn in.

As the story develops, we learn that playwright Cara has juxtaposed two stories, past and present, one of a young girl, Frankie, just coming through the initial phase of reporting her experience, and the other by Tahnee, a friend of Frankie’s mum, as she relives her experiences some years hence.

The details of the two experiences, and the two individuals, differ in terms of support and post-traumatic life adjustments, but they are united in uncertainty, misplaced blame, an initial inability to put their experience in words, adjusting to how they feel, and how they think the world will now feel about them.

Though a movingly delicate yet poignant story, both in terms of performance and script, there is great power in this production. No surprises that there are achingly heart-wrenching and gutting performances from such experienced performers as Amanda Waters (Tahnee), Cara Robinson (Maeve) and Fiona Churchill (Karen ) but the younger performers – Sierra Bridge (Frankie), Briella Thibaud (Leena) and Sam (Molly Fraser) not only hold their own in this company but excel.

I was especially moved by Sierra Bridge as Frankie. Her deliberately restrained and faltering delivery provides an image of fragility and uncertainty that is simultaneously mesmerising and crushing. It is a well-measured performance a seasoned veteran would be proud of. Likewise, Amanda Waters vulnerability, her range of emotions and the way she inhabits and gives herself over to the character was at times breath-taking. It never ceases to amaze me the depth of emotions performers are willing to tap, replicate and go through to add authenticity to a performance, and that’s very evident in this show.

Amanda Waters as Tahnee. Photo: Peter Oliver Imagery.

A strength of this production is its casting. The contrasts within various scene partners like Frankie with Leena, Tahnee with Maeve, and Tahnee with Sam showcases not only the contrasting styles of the actors but the crafting of their onstage personas. Cara Robinson’s Maeve wears her acute pain so viscerally that it reminds us of the experiences around those going through trauma. Briella Thibaud’s Leena provides the sort of up-beat, supportive friendship and acceptance we could only hope for in such a situation, contrasting with Molly Fraser’s wonderfully gregarious but ultimately unsupportive and avoidant Sam, and Fiona Churchill’s Karen is so empathetic, professional and comforting as a counsellor I’d gladly book a session with her tomorrow.

But someone I want to single out for particular praise is Ember Robinson, who is not only an important part of the acting ensemble playing four separate roles, but wrote and performs the song that bookends the show. The song, Through the Embers, not only foreshadows a central theme but ties in perfectly with Karen’s closing reassuring analogy to Frankie. It’s a performance made starkly simple by the use of an acoustic guitar, no capos and no plectrum, and showcases Ember’s low register that has a mellow sweetness not unlike Amy Ray. The show could have gone ahead without this song but is so much better for it.

And there are many other elements that add significantly to the whole… the visual effect of fire early in the show, the simplicity of the set design, the light-hearted tik tok choreography that culminates in a final expression of joy, having come through the flames and the embers… these and other pieces contribute greatly to the experience and all of the crew are congratulated for their contributions.

Kudos to Cara

But most of all this production is a credit to writer/director Cara Robinson on several levels.

As a piece of writing, Through the Embers showcases the playwright’s deftness at crafting a slowly-revealed, intimate yet powerful story, layered with several concurrent plots that don’t compete but help to explicate the different experiences of trauma. Robinson’s phrasing, imagery and use of original analogies keeps the dialog fresh and new. She has given all of her characters their own unique voices and culminates the story with a satisfactory, even uplifting conclusion.

Her use of parallel storylines… delivered gradually, unrushed and slow-released through to the very end… starkly contrasts two very different journeys… one well-supported, one far less so. But her script emphasises that Frankie and Tahnee are united in several  common experiences… their distress, their soul-searching, their mis-placed questions of self-blame, with difficulties speaking their truth to others and their fearful confrontation of how their new worlds will look and how they will fit in them.

This is a layered and well-crafted piece of story-telling.

As a director she has lovingly guided a sensitive story and evoked performances that were equal to this touching script. The emotion feels real and not performative, the look of the stage is simple and non-distracting and her directorial choices are all grounded, aiming for (and achieving) intimacy over size.

But more than that, this has been a genuine passion project for Cara and it’s quality is very much a result of that. The phrase “passion project” is somewhat overused, maybe in the sense that someone, for example, has for a lifetime wanted to produce Grease, or Les Mis, and finally gets to do it. But it’s far deeper when it’s a show that reveals so much.

There’s an incredible bravery in being willing to open yourself up and disclose your darkest moments, your most secret and most private and most traumatic moments. While the actors dig deep for their performances, so much moreso the writer for sharing their personal truths. It’s an incredible and generous gift that someone is willing to do that, particular so that others may benefit from feeling less alone, less different.

Because of the playwright’s bravery, those that have experienced similar trauma will feel seen, acknowledged and understood, while those that haven’t will have a greater understanding. Good theatre does that. It touches you, resonates, opens you to emotional experiences and stays with you. And this is very good theatre… in fact I can’t think of another locally written show I have found to be so richly realised and so moving.

There is much in this show that may be triggering. That’s not a bad thing. For many, it will even be cathartic. The particular trauma involved isn’t referred to specifically in promotional materials and I have tried to follow suit here. But in general, I have a bias and an affection towards stories that touch on the many things we struggle to talk about openly and carry deep inside… things like mental health, ostracization, abuse, suicidal thoughts, loss and struggling through life in the many ways we do.

It’s an expression I’ve used before, but such plays aren’t just good stories, they are about something. This play is about something.

It may take you through some painful or uncomfortable memories.

It may connect you to and help you have a greater appreciation of the lasting effects of trauma in a way you have never experienced or considered.

It will certainly showcase a beautifully written if unsettlingly real story, and the gifts both on stage and off, of some of the region’s finest creatives.

If you like shows that kick you in the guts emotionally, see this show, for a very limited run in its World Premiere at the Lieder Theatre.

Show times:

Wednesday 15 October – 7.30pm
Thursday 16 October – 7.30pm
Friday 17 October – 7.30pm

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