Little One
Hannah Brady in Little One, Image, Matthew Williamson
*****
Can a monster learn to love? Can kindness sow redemption in a scorched earth heart? What makes a monster anyway? Abuse? Neglect? How do you recognise a monster? In Canadian playwright Hannah Moscovitch’s stunning, dark tragedy Little One, receiving its Irish premiere at Glass Mask Theatre, adopted siblings Aaron and Clare unravel the bonds of family dynamics. Two troubled orphans thrown together as their neglectful step-parents insist Aaron play parent to his abused younger sister. Unfolding into a psychological thriller whose twisted tale is exhilarating dark and darkly funny. Made all the more so by the manner of its telling.
Dan Monaghan and Hannah Brady in Little One, Image, Matthew Williamson
Narratively a memory play, focus falls on the elder Aaron as he recounts growing up with his adopted sister, Clare. From her first bizarre encounter with a mail order bride’s husband at the age of four to the final, pubescent straw of Aaron’s missing cat, the sexually abused Clare has been the bane and responsibility of Aaron’s existence. Stabbings, dead goldfish, missing figurines found in the most unlikely of places; how much can an eldest brother take? Maybe Clare had nothing to do with what happened his cat, but maybe its good to finally have an excuse to be done with Clare and the responsibility that comes with her. Sure, everyone says she’s on the verge of recovery, but you can’t build your life on someone else’s suffering. What of Aaron’s life? Doesn’t his suffering count? After all, there are many types of abuse. Many conducted in the name of love. All of which provides you with a bare sketch of the depths Moscovitch plumbs. Ensuring Little One is an experience to be had more than a story to be told. Evoking terrors that lurk in the shadowed corners of the mind.
Under the exceptional direction of Samatha Cade, Little One effortlessly yields up countless treasures. Cade, displaying compositional excellence, perfect pace, and a rigorous deep dive into the text, envelops it all in a deep yet delicate artistry. Marshalling her technical troops, Cade crafts a psychological space steeped in the warmth and terror of memory. Eoin Lennon’s shadowed, twilit lights and set, enriched by Denis Clohessy’s thumping soundtrack and sensitive score establish a liminal context in which an unblinking Hannah Brady delivers a riveting performance as the tortured Clare. Part Blumhouse anti-heroine, part Stephen King nightmare, with Migle Ryan’s effective dungarees evoking Mia Goth’s Pearl, Clare risks being little more than a device. But Cade and Brady resist the temptation, furnishing darker, deeper tones that are far more poignant. Dan Monaghan’s Aaron providing the perfect foil by way of a brilliantly controlled performance, journeying from eager to please child, resentful teen, to conflicted adult. Running the emotional gamut, Monaghan conveys a range of experiences through subtle yet sensitive details. Even as Brady delivers another of her disturbing monologues, Monaghan’s eyes flit with devouring concentration, reminding you that everything onstage is Aaron’s memory. A representation, or misrepresentation, of his troubled sister. That Clare might only truly exist in the space that Aaron refuses to accept. For that would mean looking at himself and the choice he made as a parental child when push came to shove.
If Little One, written 2011, introduces the exciting work of Moscovitch to Irish audiences, of equally significant interest is director Samatha Cade. Working with what she has, rather than against what she has not, Cade crafts a veritable universe in one of the most demanding of spaces. Serving up a breathtakingly brilliant, stunningly complex, genuinely thrilling experience. If Moscovitch wraps things up with an unsatisfying bow, Cade has already done her job. Transforming Moscovitch’s little play into a monstrously big experience, ensuring Little One is not to be missed.
Little One, by Hannah Moscovitch, runs at Glass Mask Theatre until April 5.
For more information visit Glass MaskTheatre.
