A witting, slightly twisted, fast moving play - review

We never cease to be amazed by what the human condition can allow us to do. By human condition, of course, I mean our ability to put reason and judgment, fairness and truth above our base and selfish desire for self-preservation. However, it can also allow us to do the reverse and block our humanity in favour of a more primordial bestiality. The above virtues are the norms by which western society sets its store in terms of civility, expectations and duties; and are considered to be as integral a part of our humanity as the need to breathe and eat. But it is exactly this assumption which Dennis Kelly's play DNA, sets out to debunk and expose for the misconception it really is. Just because we are socialised according to a basic set of rules, it does not mean that these rules are firmly imprinted within our DNA.

The processes of social conformity and civil niceties are far from innate and are in part acquired and in part learnt as individuals interact with one another in a society. This means that we can just as easily choose to ignore these rules or deviate from them if the necessity arises. A good conscience usually keeps us on the right track - but not everyone's conscience prioritises goodness in the same way. Kelly's play was written last year and Masquerade Theatre Arts School have chosen it as a test piece for their advanced students' certificate.

I went to see the play, directed by Daniela Blagojevic last Sunday and was favourably impressed - it was overall, an excellent performance by the Masquerade Junior Company and it goes to show just how much young people can achieve if they put their minds to it and hone their artistic talents to put up a play which carries a deep and mature message. It is a demanding piece both in terms of content and technicality. The cast required was quite large and the themes and subject matter it dealt with were particularly appropriate for the teenage performers. It starts off with a seemingly typical adolescent "bit of fun", which escalates into a drunken onslaught of verbal and physical bullying by a group of sixth formers towards a girl who tries to join in the "fun" of illicit boozing and smoking. Their idea of "having a laugh" is to egg on an inebriated Amy, played most effectively by Beverly Agius to climb onto the edge of a precipice in a wood and proceed to pelt her with stones until she loses her footing, plunging several storeys to her death. This event unfolds in flashback - from the recollections of the girls involved and by means of a cleverly filmed video-flashback projection, which is a sort of collective psyche, churning out the memory as the surviving bullies recount it: a toned-down version from their shocked and contrite perspective. The set was simple but effective - with a park bench and masses of dead leaves on the ground and a wall covered in graffiti, created by Andrew Bartolo Parnis, as a backdrop.

What happens next is that they choose to cover up their involvement in Amy's death by turning to the amoral and imperturbably silent Phil, the only boy in the play, portrayed by Justin Camilleri who managed to create a character, so irritatingly indifferent and unreactionary that it comes as a surprise when he barks out orders to the others, orchestrating a perfectly plausible series of events to justify Amy's death while ensuring that everybody else is cleared of all culpability. Mr Camilleri's lack of interaction with Martina Buhagiar's Lea, is the stuff of classic comedic duos based on opposite traits and has a function which is twofold: it allows the audience to relax from the tension and worry experienced by the other characters while keeping them focused on the theme and allowing them examine the dark side of the human condition through Lea's mock-erudite chatter.

Indeed, Lea acts as the vehicle for Kelly's voice of reason in the play, with observations lifted from books and magazines she's been reading, TV documentaries she's been watching as well as her own well-developed, if at times excessively stressed, social conscience. Ms Buhagiar's manic chatter contrasted well with Mr Camilleri's infuriating passivity and created scenes where an overly earnest Lea attempts to ignite within Phil a hint of a response to her stream of consciousness which goes on like a derailed steam train. Most of the time, Phil busies himself with consuming some form of snack or other - a primitivist response to Lea's more rational and humanist attitude of communicating. Ms Buhagiar is a very promising actress with an excellent sense of timing. Interestingly, Phil and Lea are the only two characters who were not directly involved in Amy's death, at the beginning, but the cover-up concocted by Phil becomes a frame-up when Debbie Brownrigg's frivolous, fame-hungry Cathy and Annelise Abela's tomboyish, gum-chewing Marie decide to get creative and take Phil's instructions a tad too far, implicating an innocent man.

In the characters' group discussions, we realise just what an influential role peer pressure has in controlling the life of young people. Two factions emerge - with bullies-in chief, Joan Tate, played by a fierce Petra Sant and Rachel, played by Talitha Dimech, joining forces under Phil's mysterious influence, to save their skins. Claire Bonello's Jana and Noella Micallef's Sue, tend to gravitate naturally round Marie, whose narrative speeches Ms Abela delivers very well, and the three of them act as henchmen, or women, in this case, for either side. Aspiring dentist Danny's allegiances, on the other hand, are as aloof as her bourgeois character permits her to be - constantly insisting that her reputation and future career are at stake and is accurately portrayed by Kristina Frendo. Lou, sensitively played by Sarah Mercieca, on the other hand, simply wants to be on everyone's good side and has no qualms with calmly doing Joan and Rachel's bidding while the weak and easily manipulated Beth, played very convincingly by Joanna Caruana, becomes everybody's emotional punching bag, while becoming emotionally crushed herself.

A masterly twist at the end leads us to realise that a half-crazed Amy, who has miraculously survived her fall and has apparently been living in the woods for weeks, is found by Beth. This creates a further problem for the group - their whole fabricated plot will unravel if Amy is taken back home and recovers sufficiently to tell the truth.

The audience is left with a very clear picture of how things develop off-stage: murder is strongly implied by Phil's instructions to a now ruthless Cathy; to silence the only weak link in their chain of lies. Thus self-preservation brings out the pack mentality which pre-dated the community spirit within us, serving as a strong warning that deviance in society is frighteningly easy to develop. Just like Lea's description of the minute genetic difference between chimps and bonobos, which makes the latter more caring towards others and the former more violent, humans ironically seem to totter somewhere along the fine line between these two ancestral lineages - proving how vulnerable we are to what is really within our DNA.