Sydney: Love Lies Bleeding

Reviewed by Nicole Bassil

I always find it a bit unnerving when a performer is onstage, perfectly lit and in character as the audience shuffles to their seats. It’s almost like the show has already started and I worry that I’ve missed something. Alex (played by Max Cullen) rested quietly in his wheelchair, completed unfazed by the restlessness around him and, amazingly, he remained there, motionless, for the entire duration of Love-Lies-Bleeding. It is actually quite a physically demanding skill to be stationary for an hour and a half. It is a worry, however, when the most striking aspect of a production is the ability of an actor to do nothing for so long.

Love-Lies-Bleeding follows the final stages of the life of Alex. An artistic serial monogamist whose vitality has been tragically stripped by his vegetative state. Alex is cared for by his latest devoted wife (played by Paula Arundell), but it has been months since he has spoken, moved or given her any sign that he knows what is going on around him. Enter Toinette (Robyn Nevin), the previous wife, and his adult son (from the wife before her). They believe that it’s time to euthanase Alex, but his wife is determined to preserve whatever clinging tendrils of sentience Alex might have. This play deals with the confronting question of whether life ceases to have quality at some point and who has the right to take it.

It’s not an original idea in any way but it is an important one. Alex’s perpetual motionless presence on the stage, like a piece of furniture, communicates the very harsh reality that loved ones must face every day they live with a catatonic victim. An hour and a half is uncomfortable enough, but months must be torture. The title of this play refers to one of the many desert plants Alex adored, which also represent his fight for survival in a cruel environment. However, the double entendre also works as a reflection of the suffering that can be caused by such strong human connections.

Love-Lies-Bleeding is generally well acted by most of the cast, particularly during the monologues, but the story just seemed a little flat. The whole production was quite misery-stricken, which I suppose is appropriate when arranging the particulars of a murder, but the “surprisingly amusing” overtones promised in the program never came and while the characters seemed to suffer, I did not suffer with them.

In general, I was unable to identify with the character of Alex. I didn’t really care that he was dying. The few mumbled flashbacks to his earlier moments of passion and humour seemed stiff and contrived. Basically, he came across as a neglectful father, an aggressive husband and a nuisance for those now attempting to care for him. Not that that means he has no right to live, but it was a conundrum that failed to engage me. His Adamic approach to the inherent relationships between the names of the flowers and the flowers themselves was the only thing about him that I found vaguely interesting.

This Sydney Theatre Company production of Love-Lies-Bleeding, by Don DeLillo plays at Glen Street Theatre until 22 September 2007.

The Good: Reasonably good acting around the significant issue of the value of life.

The Bad: The value of Alex’s particular life was limited in its resonance.

The Vibe: A play with a lot more potential.