SITTING, SCREAMING

By Diana Simmonds

September 30 2024

SITTING, SCREAMING, New Ghosts Theatre Company at the Old Fitz, 20 September–5 October 2024. Photography: Phil Erbacher

A remarkable thing is happening at the Old Fitz right now and you have until October 5 to catch it. It’s Sitting, Screaming, and is part of the New Works Festival (which is remarkable in itself).

Sitting, Screaming is a 70-minute tour de force of play-writing from Madelaine Nunn, and a dazzling solo performance by Clare Hughes, directed by Lucy Clements, that is by turns breathtakingly nuanced and subtle, and joyously reckless. The play was shortlisted for the Rodney Seaborn Playwright’s Award and long-listed for the Griffin Award, and this production – all its elements – ought to be on award shortlists for the best of 2024.

In the middle of her last year of high school, Sam (Clare Hughes) is in that precarious life moment: at the end of innocence where maturity has yet to kick in, and merely living is an insecure occupation. She faces each day in the despised school uniform of neatly-pressed lemon yellow shirt and navy long shorts. Her own attempt at independence is signalled by much-discussed blue-dyed streaks in her long hair.

Life is pretty crap: Sam’s dad is withering away from cancer, and her mum is dealing with it all through sardonic jokes, emotional distance, and a fridge whose contents are a few beers and a mouldy yogurt. At school, there’s a simpering teacher whose concern is Sam’s welfare but who sets her teeth on edge. Her bestie finally jacks up at handing over English assignments as exams approach. And then there’s the avuncular Mr David, who Sam feels she can trust but who introduces her to the concepts of grooming and gaslighting – not that these are named or understood by the victim, but which are enragingly clear to the audience.

Hughes plays each role through a shift of voice, the lift of a shoulder, and other fine distinctions so that Sam’s gradual progression from a sassy, acting-up teenager to full-blown panic attack is relentless and shocking. Like so many adolescents, Sam is at once confidently invulnerable and terrifyingly unguarded. Her responses to the attention, warmth, and apparent respect she gets from Mr David are so predictable and unshielded that it’s all one can do not to storm the stage and save her from herself and him.

As it is, watching Sam navigate the treacherous elements of her everyday is enhanced by costume and set designer Hailley Hunt’s astute place of anonymous, glittering metal panels. The structure conjures images of institutional impersonality, the depressing fridge at home, school locker room, and public “design” that longs to be graffitied. Imaginative sound design by Sam Cheng, and apposite lighting by Luna Ng complete an environment that, in its ordinariness, underlines Sam’s bleak circumstances.

In this instance the play’s title could easily apply to the audience: watching helplessly is a confronting experience, and probably for many, a familiar one too. On each seat for this show, you’ll find a booklet from Bravehearts. The organisation seeks to turn paralysis in the face of child sexual abuse into positive action – take the booklet with you and learn how not to be.

At the same time, it would be a sad mistake to believe Sitting, Screaming is a vision of hopelessness and to be avoided. On the contrary, this play, performance, and production are vivid, vital, and unmissable. While there’s nothing remotely Pollyanna about its resolution, the kick-ass denouement is full of hope. There’s a ray of light at the end of the tunnel and it could be justice. And along the way, you might have shocked yourself at how many unexpected laughs you’ve shared with Sam. Recommended without reservation.