The December Brother

I saw this play at Downstage last night (uncomped, unlike some bloggers . . .). Directed by Tim Spite and developed with his SEEyD company the play consists of three separate performance pieces linked by the themes of family and epistemology.

The first part is about a non-fictional account of Spite’s Father discovering and meeting his extended biological family after tracking down his half-sister. Part two is a dual reconstruction of the Bain murders: first the prosecution version of events in which David kills his family, then the defence version in which Robin is the killer. Part three is a fictional account of a woman in her thirties discovering she was adopted and is related to a family that has just experienced a vaguely Bain-like murder.

So:

• the first part is patchy; strong performances but it occasionally feels like you’ve been trapped next to a nutty, genealogy-obsessed relative at a wedding (‘and then Babe remarried so your first cousin’s Godfather also became your nephew’s uncle’s Stepfather!’)
• The second part is electric. The rooms of the Bain house are outlined on the floor in red; most of the actors sleep on the floor while first David and then Robin creep from room to room murdering them with a silenced gun. Details of the crime (fingerprints, times etc) appear projected on the back wall in white text on a black background. There is almost no dialogue; the sound design is suburb. (The acoustics at DownStage are actually pretty awful – it’s on the intersection of two busy streets and not particularly noise proof, but during this scene the sound of the cars and the rain and the wind functioned as diegetic noises happening in the background of the scene.)
• They’re pretty even-handed; they don’t take sides and the actors make great choices to render both David and Robin’s actions believable. But sitting there watching while Robin Bain enters his house, takes off all his clothes, puts David’s clothes on, walks around the house and kills his family then takes David’s clothes off again, puts them in the washing machine, walks back through the house naked, puts his own clothes on and then commits suicide – let’s just say it removes any lingering doubts.
• I’d like to watch part three again: I was too confused about what was happening and how it related to the first two segments. When I figured out that it didn’t I was able to lose myself in the story and enjoy myself. I especially enjoyed the acting. I still don’t understand how all three pieces relate to each other or how they comment on their themes but I’d still recommend it. Maybe brighter minds than mine will figure it out.