Though clocking in at just over a quarter century old Death and the Maiden is no less relevant – or sadly, less familiar – to today’s audiences. Set after the downfall of an unnamed regime, the torment of those who have suffered under tyranny is as harsh a reality now as it was when the play first premiered in 1990.
To undertake the telling of this sensitive and challenging tale by Ariel Dorfman, director Stephen Oliver balances the duties equally on his strong visual sense and his trio of actors.
The stage of Masquerade’s Blue Box theatre is beautifully utilised with a restrained and highly effective minimalist set designed by Romauldo Moretti. The striking motifs of white and blue echoed in the set, lighting and costume gave the production a polished and highly professional look.
The tragic story of torture survivor Paulina Salas, her husband Gerardo Escobar, and unexpected guest Roberto Miranda, rests solely on the shoulders of three actors: Sharon Bezzina, Stefan Cheriet Busuttil and Victor DeBono.
As the tormented Paulina, Sharon Bezzina brings a frenetic energy to the stage every time she sets foot on it. She is confident of her actions even as her world begins to unravel, however this strength is a little overpowering at times.
While Bezzina’s furious performance sizzled as the play reached its climax, I felt that it could have been more nuanced towards the beginning of the play. For this reason, I felt that she and Cheriet Busuttil portrayed the fraught relationship between husband and wife best when the characters were at sharp odds with one another.
When Paulina and her shocked husband grapple with the ghosts of her past in the play’s climactic scenes, the tension between Bezzina and Busuttil was palpable, and carried off splendidly by both parties. On the whole, I felt that the play grew stronger as its climax reared to a head, with performances from all three cast members becoming stronger.
In a play such as this, where the audience’s uncertainty is part and parcel to the effectiveness of the text, it was wonderful to see Oliver take a subtle path.
All too often, the urge to steer the audience forcefully towards one conclusion or another is a stumbling block for many productions. However, I feel that Death and the Maiden manages to avoid this sort of stagey spoon feeding, allowing the audience to make their own minds about the guilt or innocence of Victor Debono’s Roberto Miranda.
Portraying Miranda, Debono makes particularly excellent use of his distinctive voice, and it is this strong vocal performance which really helps to build his enigmatic character so well. His distinctive tone and mannerisms being such an important element to the play’s central plot, I had no problem believing that Debono’s unique voice would stick in a person’s mind.
I found myself lurching between disgust and sympathy at his performance, unsure what to believe had truly transpired until the final details of the plot had been revealed.
As he grapples for the truth, Busuttil’s Gerardo is a strong emotional centre for the play, seeming to teeter between one belief and the other, much like the audience, as events unfold.
While performances were generally strong, and the staging quite excellent, I feel like more effort could have been put into tackling Dorfman’s naturalistic back-and-forth patter dialogue. The cut off sentences and throwaway phrases which Dorfman uses to mimic normal speech patterns were not always successfully realised, and could be a little jarring at times. An intriguing choice from Masquerade and the director, Death and the Maiden puts both its space and its excellent text to good use as a harrowing reminder of the horrors still taking place on not-too-distant shores.