Daniel Vigilante
Sandra 1
Michael ItaliaTheatre: How To Disappear Completely And Never Be Found
By Daniel Vigilante
It’s something everyone has imagined doing at least once—wishing they could disappear completely and never be found. But we’re not talking about anything too gloomy; just the chance to start again, fresh, with say.....a new identity, which is exactly the premise behind this wonderfully sharp and often haunting play by British playwright, Fin Kennedy.
The story follows the tribulations of hot-shot advertising executive, Charlie Hunt; young, attractive, successful—and totally fucking out of his wits. We follow Charlie through a whirlpool of characters who offer glimpses into a life that has reached boiling point, jumping back and forth in time to reveal the daily perturbations of work colleagues, marketing schemes and entrepreneurial cocks that are sure to drive anyone over the edge.
And so it does. Charlie cracks. Not to mention takes crack (pardon the terrible pun), and takes lots of it. It’s one of his many vices, but what the fuck, he can afford it, he’s a hot-shot. But what he can’t afford is his sanity. So he takes a visit to an old family friend, Mike (whom he bumped into at his mother’s funeral), and this is where Charlie’s life really gets turned upside down.
Mike can give Charlie a new external identity: birth certificate, credit card, passport. Obliterate his old existence. The problem is that no one can change the internal person—except Charlie.
It’s a brilliant script of sharp dialogue, dark humour with plenty of room for philosophical musings, and is brought to the fore with mighty performances all-round. Michael Cahill is sensational with every one of his characters, while David Passmore is equally impressive with the less dynamic protagonist, Charlie. Glen Hancox does some great exaggerated stereotypes, while Helen Hopkins and Tory Rodd fill their assorted roles with thorough diligence. Paul King’s direction keeps an upbeat pace but still allows for a certain pathos that often has you sick with an observable familiarity.
It’s something everyone has imagined doing at least once—wishing they could disappear completely and never be found. But we’re not talking about anything too gloomy; just the chance to start again, fresh, with say.....a new identity, which is exactly the premise behind this wonderfully sharp and often haunting play by British playwright, Fin Kennedy.
The story follows the tribulations of hot-shot advertising executive, Charlie Hunt; young, attractive, successful—and totally fucking out of his wits. We follow Charlie through a whirlpool of characters who offer glimpses into a life that has reached boiling point, jumping back and forth in time to reveal the daily perturbations of work colleagues, marketing schemes and entrepreneurial cocks that are sure to drive anyone over the edge.
Mike can give Charlie a new external identity: birth certificate, credit card, passport. Obliterate his old existence. The problem is that no one can change the internal person—except Charlie.
It’s a brilliant script of sharp dialogue, dark humour with plenty of room for philosophical musings, and is brought to the fore with mighty performances all-round. Michael Cahill is sensational with every one of his characters, while David Passmore is equally impressive with the less dynamic protagonist, Charlie. Glen Hancox does some great exaggerated stereotypes, while Helen Hopkins and Tory Rodd fill their assorted roles with thorough diligence. Paul King’s direction keeps an upbeat pace but still allows for a certain pathos that often has you sick with an observable familiarity.
