Tuesday 26th – Saturday 30th January; 8pm

OFS Studio

“It has a lot to say, and it deserves an audience willing to listen.  The only question is:  can the production itself actually get any of this across?” Greg Fox ★★★★★

“The monologues themselves are unapologetically grotesque, often sexual in nature, and the audience finds itself equally disturbed and sympathetic—disturbed, perhaps, to find itself so readily sympathizing with perverts and manipulators and murderers.” Jennifer Kratz ★★★★★

Going Down ★★★★★

Review by Greg Fox

Ever been in a theatre when a baby starts crying?  It immediately takes everyone right out of the experience.  After a while you can get into it again, but only until the baby cries again.  That’s what it was like watching the production of Going Down now running at the OFS Studio theatre.  And that was before the baby in the back of the theatre started crying.

Going Down is a play filled with the kinds of parts actors dream of playing.  It is a deep show of strong characters who have strong emotions, interesting character interaction intercut by gripping monologues.  It has a lot to say, and it deserves an audience willing to listen.  The only question is:  can the production itself actually get any of this across?

Don’t be mistaken.  There are commendable moments in this show, both funny and dramatic.  Most of the cast which enters into the play’s mysterious lift displays excellent naturalistic acting.  However, the lift operator (Sam Clarke) seems an anomaly in this trend.  To be fair, the part is written to be a bit bizarre, but as each character enters the lift, every time he bursts out with “Going down,” the flow of the play is completely broken.  Altogether, he seemed to be acting in a different show than the rest of the cast, which is a pity, since the rest of the cast was doing such a fantastic job.

Another distraction was the technical side of the production.  The lighting design was minimal to the point of distraction.  Neither the size, shape, nor atmosphere of a lift was remotely suggested.  The lighting cues themselves were curiously abrupt and sometimes purposeless.  The only well executed lighting came in the form of an intense front light which was used during the monologues and cast vaulted shadows on the black backdrop.  The sound was similarly disappointing.  The sound of the lift doors was overpowering, and what was worse:  it rained down from above, reminding the entire audience that this was in fact a show that was fake.  Suspension of disbelief can only go so far.  Fortunately, costume and makeup did not follow this trend.

The play as a whole also seemed to lack a certain something, that intangible element that makes a show spectacular.  Certain cues fell flat, beat changes seemed unmotivated, and the meaning of the whole play seemed to get lost.  This final point was the most frustrating.  The closing scenes of the play are riveting as Alice (Katherine Roe) and Dave (Christopher Holt), a struggling couple, are finally real with one another.  Holt, too, delivers his last monologue with a chilling conviction and sincere emotion.  Unfortunately, this moment is allowed to drop dead on a muddled and confusing ending.  Perhaps it was the staging or the curt and unnecessary fading in and out of the lights, but whatever it was, it is unfortunate that a play with so much to say can be obstructed by its own efforts.

Going Down ★★★★★

Review by Jennifer Kratz

What we have is essentially a collection of monologues in which the six characters gathered in an elevator take turns reminiscing about the dark deeds of their individual pasts. As each character takes his or her turn in the light of centre stage, his shadow towers behind him, rising up above those of his fellow passengers, who stand completely still while he tells his story. The monologues themselves are unapologetically grotesque, often sexual in nature, and the audience finds itself equally disturbed and sympathetic—disturbed, perhaps, to find itself so readily sympathizing with perverts and manipulators and murderers. It occurs to us, as one character puts it, that no person is incapable of such acts of pure evil: ‘You think you know yourself, don’t you? You think you know yourself, until you do something that surprises you.’

The monologues are a collective example of stage writing at its best, and are delivered brilliantly by the actors. The tension rises with lapses of memory; retracted comments by the speakers who struggle in their attempts to come to terms with and take responsibility for their actions; and re-enactments that draw the audience into the moment of those haunting memories. Here the actor in David’s role deserves special commendation for his masterful switches between reminiscent narrative, a relived telephone conversation, fitful tears of rage, and a subtle and quick back-and-forth with Alice—a moment which I found beautifully effective, a solid example of directorial genius.

The transitions between monologues leave much to be desired. One cannot help but think that the lines and sound effects delivered here are little more than the forced ramblings that must necessarily occur to move from one character’s speech to the next. True, the monologues are the beating heart of this production, but an important opportunity was missed to connect from one to the next in a way that was smooth and artistically sensible.

And of course, one cannot neglect to mention the character of the Operator, whose sadistic sense of humor creates an uncomfortable measure of tension throughout the entire play. If his role is to unnerve the audience with chilling outbursts and cheerful music, he has done his job well.