Ruby Moon
Ruby Moon, at the Newtown Theatre, presented by Devil May Care; November 25-December 12, 2009
MATT CAMERON scored a considerable success with this play when it was first staged by Playbox in Melbourne in 2003. Since then it has been seen in various productions around Australia including one at the Sydney Theatre Company in 2007, so its story at least may seem familiar.
A young couple Sylvie and Ray (Sarah Aubrey and Brynn Loosemore) are coping – badly – with the abduction and presumed death of their six-year-old daughter. Ray’s method is stoicism, while Sylvie leans more towards fantasy and the conviction that the child isn’t dead. She maintains her grief by keeping a mannequin of the girl, dressed as last seen – on her way to Granny’s in a nearby cul de sac – in the front yard. The neighbours have probably had about enough.
When Ray returns home from work one evening Sylvie insists that they try yet another doorknocking visit to these long suffering neighbours. This requires each to dart behind a screen and pop out again in one of several quick changes and another character. And as each neighbour is introduced to the audience, it is underlined in red ink that each has A Motive or is otherwise Suspicious.
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The parents are also fairly suspicious, whether they intend to be or not, but that’s probably because they struggle to cope with the changes of characters and, more often than not, resort to mugging and caricature. On opening night, this amused and entertained a predominantly Year 12 audience (they’ve had to read it in class, apparently). Seeing a play is probably always going to be better than reading it in a classroom, but it’s a pity this production isn’t a better one.
Jessica Tuckwell’s direction is flat and uninspiring; it may have something to do with having to shovel **** uphill with two actors who rarely connect with their characters. On the other hand, it could just as well be the other way around. Aubrey has a better time of it than her stage companion, but to be fair, playing a cipher-like stoic is probably only the forte of a cipher-like stoic like Keanu Reeves. The static and widely dispersed set (Tessa Richardson) of pairs of odd doors (the necessary screens) also makes negotiating the physical space daunting and awkward. Intimacy and rhythm are lost and it becomes increasingly difficult to focus on or care about the protagonists. Not the best outing for any of the participants.
