It is a late summer, 1938. A large swing sits in the middle of a sunlit garden and Doberman (Craig Chapman) sits in front of it, gazing dolefully at the sun while other characters enter severally, herded by a bossy nurse, Miss Alma (Abigail Longstaffe). The scene set is a garden in an Ontario asylum for the insane where the arrival of Cassandra (Nicki Walsh) eagerly anticipated.

Cassandra acts out the story of her life from a book of photos she carries around, and each patient in the asylum assumes a role within it. But as the delineation between the patients' interaction and Cassandra's flashbacks become indistinct, doubt arises about the truth of her tale. The swing is a fitting image, as the narrative sways between events in the asylum and those apparently in Cassandra's past, between truth and reality. But which is which? Is anything true, real? Cassandra invokes a seemingly absent God with the words of the play's title, and with world war just a year away, she seems to know that there is no sanctuary 'in all the width and breadth and depth of the human heart' because 'there is none in mine'. And if there is ever a God who sees her as she stands, he will know this, too. She has failed. This is the truth she explores through her narrative inventions, and her reality is merely a matter of perspective. As Doretta (Monica Kendall) points out: 'if she says that book's the story of her life, it's the story of her life, isn't it?'

As Doberman, Craig Chapman plays a melancholic patient who believes he is a dog. Employing a meticulously observed canine physicality and saucer-eyed expression, he evokes sympathy as the character is bullied and excluded by the other patients whose unhealthy obsession with dead dogs does nothing to put him at ease. His transformation into a man at the end, as he utters his first and only word and stands on two legs, is triggered by the desire to save the one person who has treated him as he wanted to be treated - Cassandra. This is all it takes to heal him, it seems.

Rachel Dale is a boisterous Maudie/patient, carrying off the intonations and gestures of a defiant child (as 10-year-old Maudie) convincingly. In blonde pigtails and pink-and-green checked shift dress, Rachel Dale endears as Franklyn's mischievous younger sister, teasing and being teased in equal measure, though there are flashes of a bullying mentality.

Philip Hayden plays Franklin, a 28-year-old ex-soldier tortured by humiliating wartime injuries and sense of inadequacy in comparison to his older brother Patrick, expertly. His rage simmers and eventually boils over into a full-blown attack on his father, revealing the actor's powerful yet unforced emotional range.

Monica Kendall plays brittle, unforgiving Doretta, for whom Cassandra's religious zeal is a thorn in her side, and portrays a patient whose disintegration and inability to remember who she is and 'who would do this' to her is heart-tearing. The contrast between the character of the overbearing aunt who rails against Cassandra, and that of a vulnerable patient is especially well-defined.

Lucy Le Messurier's fragile Rosemary provides a counterbalance to Cassandra's missionary fervour, appearing weak and impressionable as she sleepwalks into a marriage of convenience between two families with successful industrial businesses. Lucy Le Messurier evokes Rosemary's increasing panic as the ill-starred event looms, and Rosemary's confession that she doesn't want to have children is mirrored by the confession of the patient who plays her that she killed her baby.

Abigail Longstaffe shines as Alma, the asylum nurse whose dubious crowd-control tactics are as crazy as the patients she is controlling. In ringing, no-nonsense voice, she commands them with arbitrary routines which impose order without meaning. The actress also doubles as Jessica Hogan, the friend with whom Cassandra goes (or doesn't go) to China and who dies of 'a mere disease' on the journey. As Alma, she switches from an assured schoolteacher's manner to affectionate humour and even brutish and punitive behaviour - and then back again - all in an instant. This not only injects humour into the action but reveals inherent instability at the core of this 'sanctuary'.

Sean Patterson as Edward plays father to the children, and Cassandra and Franklyn each blame him for their ruin. He is consumed with grief at the deaths of his children - 'if a parent dies, you go on living. If your children die, you perish' - and yet, at times, he cannot even remember what has happened to them, only that 'all the breathing stopped'. The actor shows the character's distress without ostentation, as Edward mercifully fails to recall the tragic event that has ruined his life.

Sophie Talbot is engaging both as Enid and as a patient. The actress exudes warmth and dynamism through lively movements and twinkling eyes, whether portraying unrelenting anxieties or eliciting laughs with convoluted stories about setting noses on fire.

Johnny Vivash's Clare, like the other characters and patients, believes he has done 'terrible things'. He describes an infatuation with a little boy standing by a river and, though he cannot remember what he has done, longs for forgiveness with neither any evidence he has done anything wrong nor any apparent expectation of forgiveness being granted. Johnny Vivash successfully conveys the character's undercurrent of restless paranoia.

As a strong-willed, shrewd and damaged Cassandra, Nicki Walsh is magnificent. With a superb voice that creates as much impact with a whisper as it does with a shout, and a stage presence that demands constant attention, the actress creates a tumultuous journey from Cassandra's nervous arrival and reluctance to join the group, through a story fractured by failure, resentment, guilt and fear, to her final attempt at self-destruction - from which she is rescued by 'dog' Doberman. When Cassandra describes having watched a herd of cattle try to enter a burning barn, instinctively heading for the safety of home which was also the source of danger, she seems clearly to be describing her own fate. Nicki Walsh achieves her intensity without melodrama.

Sophie Walton plays sweet-natured Annie, the girl Cassandra supposedly befriends at the station on her return from China. With a good deal of poise and sensitivity, the actress creates a portrait of an inquisitive girl rather awe-struck by Cassandra's conviction.

Joanna Turner's masterful direction deserves praise, with no scene appearing cluttered even when the entire cast of 11 is on stage. She draws solid performances across the cast, and the decision not to use Canadian accents feels astute - the British accents serve the story just as well. Sound designer John Gilroy creates atmosphere with sounds of yapping dogs, gramophone records, and authentic recordings that convey 'voices, loudspeakers, Hitler, Mussolini, Roosevelt'. Lighting designer Avril Cook artfully guides the eye through the play's labyrinth of flashbacks. Set designer Adam Harris creates the set's light palette of cream, beige and brown, evoking 95-degree summer heat. Technical Operator Alessandro Munari executes lighting and sound cues precisely. Fight director Ronin Traynor and choreographer Lisette Foster contribute neat sequences appropriate for the abilities of the cast, stage capacity, and style of the production. Producer Darren Batten produces a thought-provoking, deliciously opaque piece in which the play's broad themes are more comprehensible than its narrative detail.

Set in Canada just before World War Two (but written in 1976), the play reflects the unease of a country that, in spite of considerable losses in its fight alongside Great Britain as part of the Commonwealth, went on to benefit from an acceleration out of the Great Depression of the 1930s into the industrialised age - a development largely created from the war effort. Unwittingly, Canada turned misery to success, converting the rotting remains of battlefields into future hope and prosperity.

In Can You See Me Yet?, company Language Laid Bare Productions perhaps offers a glimpse into writer the late Timothy Findley's shadowy mind. No forced interpretation is superimposed to try and give it more coherence than it needs. The play is allowed to breathe. This is a well-acted, slick production of an exquisitely painful, yet hopeful, play.

Cast Credits: (alpha order): Craig Chapman - Doberman. Rachel Dale - Maudie. Philip Hayden - Franklin. Monica Kendall - Doretta. Lucy Le Messurier - Rosemary. Abigail Longstaffe - Alma. Sean Patterson - Edward. Sophie Talbot - Enid. Johnny Vivash - Clare. Nicki Walsh - Cassandra Wakelin. Sophie Walton - Annie.

Company Credits: Writer - Timothy Findley. Director - Joanna Turner. Sound Designer - John Gilroy. Lighting Designer - Avril Cook. Set Designer - Adam Harris. Alma's costume designed and made by - Amy Jeskins. Fight Director - Ronin Traynor. Choreographer - Lisette Foster. Lighting/Sound Operator - Alessandro Munari. Producer - Darren Batten. Company - Language Laid Bare Productions. Thanks to: Kate & Karl, Brockley Jack Theatre; Gregg, Peach Properties; Laura & box office staff, Shakespeare's Globe; Saxtons & Rocodells Estate Agents; Stuart Cleary, Black Orchid Marketing; Wendy Lee Management; www.dreamstime.com, image design; Rose Batten, Michael Batten.

END

(c) Tara Paulsson 2008

reviewed Thursday 12 June 08 / Brockley Jack Theatre

Fringe Report (c) Fringe Report 2002-2012

www.fringereport.com