The Memory of Water: too much stage not enough breath

The Memory of Water is a solid and predictable family drama about three daughters who return home to bury their mother. As if by clockwork, the skeletons emerge from the closet.

Although the play addresses serious issues, it is billed as a comedy and the writing is full of opportunities for homespun humour and quirky familial moments. Reminiscent of “Three Sisters” and “Crimes of the Heart,” each sister is an archetype: the eldest is uptight and responsible, the middle sister is a stony workaholic, and the youngest is delightfully insane.

This rather charming play is made mediocre by the unfortunate choice to overplay the conflict. The middle sister Mary (Taylor Stutchbury) seems stuck in a tone of constant stridency that makes her difficult to relate to. And since the characters didn’t seem to like each other very much (until a strangely motivated conciliatory ending), I didn’t care for them much, either.

The relationships between the sisters and their men aren’t very believable. The marriage of eldest sister Teresa (Heather Cant) and Frank (Simon Best) is outright abusive. Lacking any hint of affection, their jabs at each other are malicious and petty rather than funny. Mary’s relationship with a married doctor (Lawrence Green) lacks so much chemistry that it is almost disturbing. The problem may be casting, since Green is a character actor and we need a dashing leading man to justify Mary’s attraction. The breakdown moments, where each sister comes home to the fact that her mother is dead, lack the depth to be cathartic.

Despite these faults, Cant and Karry Ransom (youngest sister Catherine) have some lovely authentic moments of connection and Ransom in particular revives the flagging humour in the play. Really, the root of the problem is Stutchbury’s flinty character who refuses to exhibit variation or vulnerability. If she had softened, a whole world of humour and connection may have opened up between the three sisters.

In terms of direction, Gerry MacKay erred on the side of being too stagey. Everything looks fine, but the actors need more breathing room to get messy in their living space so they could really treat it like a home. Dwayne Campbell’s design gives them a fantastically naturalistic set to work in but it seems that they never really felt comfortable in the space. The play would have been better served if the company had spent more time investigating the many layers of the relationships of the characters and less on the stage picture.

All in all, The Memory of Water is lovely story that relies on the warmth and believability of its characters to really come alive. Unfortunately, Metro Theatre’s production only offers glimpses of familial love; the rest is lost in anger.

_The Memory of Water by Shelagh Stephenson; Directed by Gerry Mackay; Produced by Metro Theatre; closing 6 December._