PEOPLE INSIDE ME
PEOPLE INSIDE ME, Flight Path Theatre, 5-15 August 2026. Photography by Robert Catto - above: Bookallil and Salusinszky; below: Eyers and Salusinszky; below again: Salusinszky and Solomon
Katie Pollock’s “new” play People Inside Me (winner of the 2018 Rodney Seaborn Playwrights Award) has had a long gestation, thanks to Covid lockdowns and other obstacles that beset so many plays twixt page and stage. That time has been put to good use, however, and the play that’s opened at Flight Path, with director Anthony Skuse in the driver’s seat, is an absolute cracker.
More than that, it’s a comedy of immense subtlety and macabre surprise. The opening night audience was wildly divided between consternation, muffled guffaws and the stiffly disbelieving attention that springs from what Ray Bradbury might have described as “something wicked this way comes.”
In essence, Lauren (Charlotte Salusinszky) gets a job at a crematorium, and with her the audience learns – through two gallows humour-seasoned colleagues, Heather and Pinner (Kate Bookallil and Peter Eyers) – the day-to-day of crematorium life, or death, or both. Pinner is an avuncular chap given to cups of tea and growly bonhomie. Heather is an exemplary public servant whose concern that Lauren understand the importance of sweeping the floor slowly and from left to right quickly transfers to the audience as anxiety once she’s explained her reasoning.
The old hands are curious as to whether or not Lauren will survive her first day, but she sticks out her chin and is determined to prevail. Nevertheless, she’s not so successful in her love life and after yet another night at a bar looking for someone – anyone – her latest date, Josh (Reuben Solomon), seems likely to be yet another casual disappointment, until circumstances take an unexpected turn.
The setting for all this, and more, is an austere, white room. The all-important oven is unseen in an alcove – until glowing when in action (lighting: Topaz Marlay-Cole). Otherwise the only furniture is a gleaming stainless steel gurney, and a wall of shelves where many identical boxes of cremains are stored. Some have been there for years – never collected, or simply unwanted – as a dismayed Lauren discovers. And a few of the boxes appear to have a – um – life of their own, which only adds to her angst and determination to do something about it.
Lauren’s endeavours, in life and death, mainly fall into the category of Be Careful What You Wish For as we briefly encounter Trish, Karen, Suzie, Jennifer, Judith, Dave, Nigel, Brian, Kevin, Rob and Mr Jensen. The stage isn’t crowded as all passers-through are taken on by the hardworking company and various items of clothing (costumes Charlotte Savva).
People Inside Me (we’re not only inhaling microplastics, if you’re wondering) is an ambitious and well-realised piece of black comedy and surprising humanity, punctuated by well-chosen music and sound (composer: Caleb Jacobs). Lauren finds out the hard way that being a well-meaning soul and being an interfering busybody are two sides of the same coin, and it can be flipped when least expected, as she and the audience find out. Pathos and pain add weight to the second half through fine performances, particularly from Peter Eyers, whose ability to make chameleonic switches of tone and character is startling.
The play is a reminder that laughter and tears are as close and indivisible as life and death. There is also the tragic proximity of failed pregnancies and small boxes of long-abandoned children’s ashes. People Inside Me gives laughter with one hand and a punch in the gut with the other in a rich and original 80 minutes. Highly recommended, especially if an unlikely use for a body bag tickles your fancy.
