Snuggled into the Jack Studio Theatre and transfixed on a park bench surrounded by a small circle of artificial grass, I was excited to see what was next and what would be, and how I would be transformed by the action that unfolded.
What I’d Be is a highly strung, venomous drama written by Tanieth Kerr which lacks nuance or momentum. While this show has the potential to deliver with a highly ambitious premise surrounding the conditionality of life after the death of the two sisters’ mother, the presentation is mildly impressive but not nearly enough. Sound often disrupts the storyline and too much is thrown at the production technically.
Raw emotion is where the production moves beyond the show’s patch of grass. This emotion derives from personal interaction with the script from the actors. Within fifteen minutes or less, the audience is affronted with multimedia displays of memories from the two protagonists, bringing much needed light to an incredibly shady and downhearted dialogue pattern. It is a show of death, something of darkness and deep rooted exposure of hate, and it is highly impressive to see this darkness displayed.
 
 
 
 
However, it seems the same narrative is repeated too many times. By the closing lines, the audience wonders not what will happen to the characters but when the characters’ stories will end. While it is essential to underline the piecing together, actors Rachel Jones and Beth Birss struggle to find variation and a cute sisterly relationship on stage. While more moments of comedy in the script could assist with this, it feels difficult to be enveloped or even motivated by the grief and abuse that the characters face.
Grief is the primary concern of this production, and the writer Tanieth Kerr does well to integrate this into the text. The actors deliver highly emotional performances to convey this, often shaken to tears. The grief is like a persistent gale force wind, coming in ebbs and flows which could be held back at times. However, such a wind can never fully strike the audience as it comes not as a headwind but as one pushing from behind.
The funeral links seem wildly disconnected from the rest of the plot. The theme of death appears out of a conversation regarding stopping smoking. Such blindsiding has the potential to act as an innovative surprise regarding Makayla and Ally’s pain, however there is simply a disconnect with these characters from the start, which means that the mixed truisms and general plot associated with their mother’s death has low stakes and few consequences.
Moments are tender and exciting, as Ally cries that she has sewn her mother into every decision she has made, but more of this is needed together with some comedy to get you through. Possibility is what this production leaves you with, possibility for a show stopping show. More thrill and less melodrama is needed, with more movement away from the small patch of grass and garden bench and into the sphere of the extraordinary.
Listings and ticket information can be found here
