From Eden
****
In the beginning there was Alan and Eva, talking about God in a bathroom in Eden. Not exactly how the Bible story goes, but in Stephen Jones' heart rending From Eden, there’s several similarities. Two forlorn souls find that fate, or God, has thrust them together. Hurting sinners in need of redemption. From Eden offering less a sentimental romance but endeavouring to explore a deeper kind of connectedness. Alan and Eva sharing a welter of accumulating confessions, each hoping that before the clock strikes midnight their Cinderella’s souls might find something truer than true love.
If Jones is too clever to play the opposites attract cliche, for a moment you almost wonder. Hiding in a locked bathroom at a New Year’s Eve party, Alan drinks wine from a glass whilst Eva drinks vodka from a plastic water bottle. He looks like an aspiring academic, she resembles the lead dancer in a hip hop troupe. He is recovering from a bereavement and a religious experience, she from a break up and a psychological breakdown. But there's similairites too. Both harbour secrets and share an intesne dislike for the organised in fun and religion. Those familiar with the original production, directed by the much missed Karl Shiels and starring Shauna Kerslake and Jones himself, will recall the utterly charming story that unfolds as these lost souls sail for harbour. Under Jed Murray’s compositionally astute direction, Glass Mask deliver a distinctly different experience. One with a little less charm but a much stronger spine as its two broken souls strive for connection. Jones’ binaries given greater distinction by Murray,.
Beginning with Rex Ryan’s Alan, looking like Ned Flanders pudgy, younger brother. Sporting an Asperger expression of unease in social situations, he desires human contact even as he finds it awkward joking or talking. Ryan’s understated performance superbly taking discomfort to a whole other level. Stiff movements and mannerism suggesting someone easily susceptible to being recruited into a cult, or of having survived one. Ryan showing huge smarts and generosity in having Alan play sidekick to the whirlwind that is Jordanne Jones’s Eva. A Cadillac of juicy pink, Eva is a storm raging inside and out, forever on the look out for the next impending fight. The dismissed bridesmaid sitting like a boxer, elbows on knees, leaning forward, preparing for the blows she’s sure are coming. Ready with a sharp tongue and cutting remark to counter. Except Eva’s no fighter. Just a puppy barking loud pretending she’s a guard dog. Eva’s heartbreaking confessions outbursts of self-hating vulnerability. Jones devastating and irresistible as a walking wound channeling pains all too familiar.
It’s a paradox that speed can have the contrary effect of slowing things down. If pace lulls at times, a little reining in of haste in places would elevate From Eden into an even richer experience. In fairness, transfering from the Civic, where the production premiered, to the intimacy of Glass Mask Theatre involves a period of recalibration. Something Glass Mask themselves are going through having finally, and deservedly, received Arts Council support. Promising an exciting season of new work, both homegrown and from abroad for 2025. Like Alan and Eva, Glass Mask have weathered life's storms and are daring to hope what comes next? Like Glass Mask, what elevates From Eden into something that little bit special is what might initially feel unsatisfying; the subverting of obvious expectations. Building to a glorious final image perfect for the season, From Eden serves up a heart warming testament to all that’s best in us.
From Eden by Stephen Jones, presented by Glass Mask Theatre, runs at Glass Mask Theatre until December 19.
For more information visit Glass Mask Theatre
