The Death & life of All of Us explores themes of identity, self-judgement, sexuality, acceptance, loss, growth, transformation. Whilst touching on indifferences when born into families with long-standing cultural traditions and morally influenced cultural beliefs that no longer serve us, therefore, battling internal-conflict to rebuild identify through adaptations and changes as we navigate through our destined life path.

From video recordings projected onto three different screens set like a cubicle around the stage to a live sound mixer joined with Victor on the stage, the audience were taken into the mysterious yet curious enchanting world of Victor, who from young wanted to escape from the confinements of his politically correct world where he could feel truly liberated and be honest with himself and his loved ones without feeling guilty as a heterosexual man from both Jewish & Arab descent.

The Death & Life of us All; initiates up close and personal incentives as we dive into his world of trust, love, intimacy, family secrecy and privacy. Victor’s preserved footage documented the openly loving yet securely enclosed connection he shared with his self-disciplined great aunt Marcella, the more she shared during the short clips about her past affiliations, left you hungry and eager to know and hear more! Due to the highlights of political powers intervening due to her past love interests working in elite jobs, and harassment/stalking from officials within governmental affairs and more – we could only sympathise and emotionally connect with her to gain sufficient support & protection during the rest of her chosen secluded life.

This play explores the unknown emotional turbulences we can all experience as a result of what we are made to identify as due to cultural/traditional beliefs and upbringing, confrontation of self as we mature due to no longer wanting to identify or follow what we have been indoctrinated or conditioned into from birth. Death and life serves as a metaphor where we are consciously taken through the maze of our own lives to acknowledge the concept of our past, present and future to simultaneously remind us that time is not linear and that the past is constantly flowing into now back & fourth.

Towards the end of the play we see how Victor gets lost in dance and rhythm as the music genres Dub mixed with Lebanese traditional sounds combine. The ambience increased as Victor’s dancing became exaggerated, eventually wearing him out. How our energy can slowly deflate as we reveal our heart, release personal stories, unleash nuances and strive to maintain the newly found sequences to our much preferred routine, structure and lifestyle choices with or without our family approval.

The melody of this play is packed with Victor’s humour, sarcasm and wittiness as you simultaneously ponder the duality and the significance of death & life.

Andrew Bovell is a world renowned Australian playwright with whose work A48 Theatre Company founder Ray Thomas became familiar when he toured a collaborative Welsh and Australian production of “Do Not Go Gentle”, starting at Chapter Arts Centre and finishing at The Drill Hall Theatre in New South Wales in 2017.

After the success of “When The Rain Stops Falling” at Chapter in 2022, A48 Theatre Company chose “Things I Know To Be True”, another of Andrew Bovell’s plays, for the current production which runs from March 25-30th at Llanover hall arts centre, Romilly Road, Cardiff .

The play is bookended by night-time scenes at the Price family home when the ringing living-room phone wakes up the household. There is speculation among the younger members of the family before father Bob lifts the receiver and answers ‘hello’. Before we know the significance of the call which comes at the close, action then proceeds to the front of the stage where the youngest, Rosie, gives the first monologue.

If you were thinking that the play’s title suggested a catalogue of didactic rants according to one or other characters, it wasn’t going to be this one. Rosie is telling us how she went travelling to discover love and life. Thinking she had got a result, we are shocked to hear the outcome of her encounter with Spanish heart-throb Immanuel in Berlin. When the scene cuts to her arrival at the family home to find solace, we are then diverted from the expectation she will receive a sympathetic hearing as her family appear and pepper us with quick-fire banter relating to past behaviours, some fond memories, others more resentful (e.g “I spend good cash on buying you a coffee-machine, Dad, but you never use it!”) that all but side-lines poor Rosie whose tale of loss and romantic disappointment is ignored.

The play explores the tensions created in the family relationships as each of Fran and Bob’s offspring reveal the singular deep and personal crises in their young adult lives. Bob is a prematurely retired car-worker while Fran still works as a hospital nurse, both have always been scrupulous about raising their children well and morally, to be able to leave the nest one day to create careers and family life of their own. The drama lies in how the revelations put a strain on the prospect of a happy dotage for the parents as their children reach adulthood. Such revelations force Fran to admit she has put small portions of her earnings aside in case she felt she had to leave Bob, to his consternation, while Bob has retired to grow his roses but finds it difficult to spent all his hours usefully satisfying as he had hoped.

The set is simple, tables and chairs behind the house-frame viewed from the garden area with a display of Bob’s beloved roses. Much is made of the tree beyond the fourth wall to illustrate character. Against it Fran beats her head out of frustration; Mark climbs it to observe the life around him, detached as he is from any sense of ease with norms of family and society. His brother Ben skits into view and out again to establish himself as a character evading the focus of others as he masquerades behind a facade of being as well-heeled as the privileged crowd he is trying to impress at work. Status and the value of wealth are hereby explored to a satisfying extent. Financial settlement at career end often results in a paltry amount considering the years of service someone like Fran has given.

When Ben confesses to mounting debt due to false accounting practices to fund his lifestyle, one parent is predictably outraged, the other unpredictably pragmatic. Ben’s brother Mark has decided he identifies as a woman and has booked gender-change surgery. Their sister Pip, a successful corporate career woman, is giving up the intimate care of her children in favour of leaving her husband for another man (also married). All these crises of the young adults throw the stability and hopeful expectations of their unprepared conventional parents into disarray.

The outcome is not surprising but still comes as a shock. Rosie’s second monologue is an inspired piece. Bovell writes it as if Rosie is imagining the thoughts in the overburdened mind of her mother as she leaves her hospital shift in the early morning hours for the last time, not for the first time her absorption in the case of a patient she has cared for being pertinent to her fate. The finale concludes with a wonderful silent episode where the children are dressing their father when all had been in nightwear moments earlier. Mark is now Mia and convincingly dressed and styled as such.

If the intensity of family dynamics is appropriately tense, the script is leavened with humour for some relief. The actors were admirably up to the challenges of some long speeches and fast repartee, if in monologue their voices dropped on occasion, making it hard to hear. A satisfying if unsettling drama, “Things I Know To Be True” is well produced in set and action, and recommended viewing if you can get tickets via a48theatrecompany.com

(4 / 5)

A pair of muddy trainers, a tan rucksack and jumper are the only items that sit upon the stage of Theatr Soar. The atmosphere was set by soaring Welsh anthems such as Green Green Grass of Home and Yma O Hyd filling the eaves of the converted chapel.

Liam Holmes as Stephen Jones, enters, in a square of light. His natural cadence and natural ability mean he instantly won over the audience’s hearts. Asking where his rugby boots are to an off stage unknown person, the moments of silence and glances towards this unknown character are poignant and we are immediately aware of something unspoken. The entreaty to ‘talk about it,’ leading to the awkward admittance of this ‘being a bit weird’ sets the scene perfectly for this moving piece about the pain of the Aberfan Disaster for families of the village and that inability to fully express the pain and trauma of that traumatic event.

The simple stage and lighting transports us from house in Aberfan to the waterlogged rugby pitch where Stephen is practising his kicks after his winning penalty against Dowlais in the semi-finals. The stage is used ably, the space filled by Liam and Tanwen Stokes as Angharad. The ‘in the round’ space allows Liam and Tanwen to fully immerse us in the story; Angharad watching from the audience, berating Stephen for being on the pitch rather than at home with dad or entertaining his younger brother, Dafydd. Throughout the play the space is used to great effect, bringing the audience truly into the action.

The sound is also excellent. From the soaring sounds of the crowd as Stephen steps up to take his winning kick, the rumbling of the ‘thunder’ that turns out to be the starting of the waste coal sliding down the mountainside, to the haunting spoken records of Dafydd and the parents of the lost children from the school. In particular, I enjoyed the use of Owen Sheers’ ‘The Green Hollow,’ echoing throughout the space and reminding us of the very human loss of this disaster.

I especially enjoyed the use of Welsh phrases throughout, which were used particularly evocatively during the description of the coal duff slipping down the side of the mountain. Hearing the Welsh then echoed with the English, or vice versa ensured that the script was still accessible to all. I would have liked to hear even more as I thought that this was an excellent device used in an innovative way by the writer.

The pair are ably directed by Michael Neri, clearly they have been told to not be afraid of weighted silences which leave the audience breathlessly waiting for the next line. The humour peppered throughout captures the essence of the valleys village, that easy natured way of speaking to each other which is balanced with what is not said, the glances unseen and words unspoken. With barely any props or set, we are transported between the different scenes of the action; the pitch, the mountain top, the bustling hospital of St Tydfil’s and the dark home of Stephen, Dad and Gramps.

The final scenes perfectly counterbalance the earlier humour and playfulness between Stephen Angharad. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house as Liam delivers the final lines to that unknown voice, his dad, as the two desperately struggle to come to terms with what they have lost. The final cry from Stephen of ‘I’m still here Dad!’ as the lights fade brings the story to its heartbreaking conclusion, leading to a well deserved standing ovation.

The piece was particularly poignant in Merthyr Tydfil but the themes of loss, family, friendship and unspoken love will be met with universal acclaim no matter where this is viewed. I highly recommend Mr Jones, but do make sure you take those tissues along with you!

Image Mark Douet

This was an absolute celebration of so many aspects of life that can be easily missed; self-love (in all manners of the word), companionship and reconnection. This one woman show gracefully took us through a myriad of scenes, drawing us into Jane’s life and leaving me on the edge of my seat. Carrying a multitude of character can be very tricky, and indeed could have at times been slightly clearer, but Vivien Parry’s performance was a triumph that garnered a standing ovation at the end.

April Dalton’s set at first looked incredibly simple but tuned out to be perfect- a little dull at first but hiding a lot of light and fun. The carpet was the perfect background for Jane’s transformational experiences and was elevated by Katy Morison’s lighting and Sam Jones’ sound designs, transporting us from Roath Park to London to dancing naked in Caerleon.

Hannah Noone’s direction was understated but allowed Parry’s sensuality to shine and roam around the whole stage space.
To me, the show felt like it would hit every audience member differently. There was a lot I could relate to, but a lot that would hit differently depending on the time of life you saw it.

One of the main messages that I took away from Matt Hartley’s script was that it’s never too late. Never too late to find yourself, have those conversations that are needed or to become a better person. It was a subtle story of redemption for all the characters, and I left wishing every character we met the best as they carry on their life well after we’ve left the auditorium.

Sherman Theatre is known for its young plays and dynamic work, so seeing a story of an older woman was a breath of fresh air, I just hope that younger audiences aren’t put off from attending as they would be missing out. It runs at The Studio until March 23rd with a range of prices for all ages.