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The New Theatre, located inside Connolly Bookshop and seating a modest 66, leads to an inevitably intimate experience between the audience and the production, which only improved John Morton’s Taboo. This three-act play follows a couple’s first date as they get to know each other a little too well. The discomfort of the first date is shared by the audience who, given the small theatre, feel as if they are a third invisible guest sitting at another chair at the dinner table. The setting consists of one room and the cast of only two people: there is a feeling that we are going to become overly familiar with Lily (Lisa Fox) and Tom (John Morton) tonight.
As the play progresses, Lily and Tom divulge all in this tragedy – or should I say comedy? The lines are skilfully blurred. The dialogue flows easily, as does the chemistry between the two co-stars producing an initially naturalistic tone to the play. This in itself is always a difficult task when attempting to portray a realistic character progression in a short space of time, and Morton should be commended for the depth and growth of his characters who develop during one date that takes place over the course of one evening.
Structure is the forte of this production: the three acts mirror the dinner’s three courses and all the pieces of the play fit nicely together. That said, the early naturalistic sense of the production is undermined by the constant tonal shifts from realistic to surreal to the absurd. Additionally, some of the power of the sinister hints that sprinkle throughout the first and second acts are lost due to the macabre sound effects and flashing lights – lest we fail to recognise something is wrong in this otherwise normal, domestic scene.
Lily and Tom slowly become transformed into victims of their uncontrollable and unusual circumstances, with society set at blame for having a narrow definition of “normal”. Morton tries to comment upon societal expectations, what it means to be normal in the twenty-first century, while simultaneously and skilfully making the audience culpable. Described by The New Theatre as a “dark comedy about a sheltered girl and the boy she invites over for dinner”, this statement becomes a vague estimation of the first act that leads the audience to bring their own expectations to the production. These expectations are then exposed and critiqued by Morton. Lily’s exposition encourages the audience to expect a stereotypically romantic and over enthusiastic female. Tom enters as a baffling, somewhat oblivious male. Morton introduces the possibility of these stereotypes, ultimately diminishing them and the concept of “stereotype” in general as the play progresses.
Mental health is a resurfacing issue from the beginning: Lily’s parents suffer from agoraphobia and OCD, while Tom’s job in a supermarket tentatively raises issues of social class. From the outset, clearly a lot more is going on in this play than the expected comedy on first date faux pas. By the third act however, subtlety goes out the window. Morton attempts to moralise something, but whatever that is it becomes lost amongst plot twists. Asserting “I’m my own type of normal” may work only when the person in question isn’t a criminal, but I suppose that is what makes it comedic. Whatever Morton’s message, if any, it is lost in a sea of satire.
Taboo runs at The New Theatre until 27th February. Tickets start at €12.50.
