An Irish woman deals with grief and relationships over the course of two eccentric weeks. A deep examination of queer love, complicated family dynamics and how hard it is to understand life
An Irish woman is sitting on a bench, sad, as 7 other cast members watch from the background. The setting is Dublin. That woman is Fiadh (played by the wonderful Ciara Pouncett), the mother of Natalie (Honi Cooke), who is bearing some terrible news to her daughter in the middle of the night, and Natalie’s not ready to receive them.
From there onwards, Magic follows Natalie’s life for two weeks after she receives this devastating news, and the journey is nothing short of emotional, honest and haunting. During her voyage, we get to meet eccentric people who cross paths with our quirky lead, among them her concerned, judgemental but loyal best friend; April, a mysterious, beautiful and cool woman who flirts with her at a party; Thursday and Mehdi, a hilarious yet engaging couple with enormous problems hidden under the surface; and Rae, a calm, empathetic and free partner.
The brilliance of Hugo Lau’s script relies not only on conceptualising these colourful and vivid characters but on developing them with empathy, care and an edge of mystery; even though we don’t get to see them a lot during the 80-minute show, we’re left with the sense of wanting to know more about their lives, anchoring the show with nuanced, real portrayals of complex human beings.
Nevertheless, this is Natalie’s story, and how she reacts during the tale reveals a complicated woman painfully grappling with grief. Luckily, Honi Cooke’s performance is fantastic, navigating the audience towards her growth and acceptance during these tough couple of days. Time as well as location swap smartly by the use of a whiteboard and markers, a simple yet effective tool to guide our imagination towards the scenarios where the story takes us. Lighting and sound also serve as effective narrative tools to follow Natalie’s journey, particularly an ominous scene where we see our protagonist face her denial over a haunting conversation.
Words ebb and flow with ease with naturalistic, snappy dialogue, making the scenes resonate because of their honesty. However, some comedic beats are missed here and there, and the couple’s storyline, while adding a nice change of pace to the overall theme of the play, feels narratively out of place. Despite these minor hiccups, Magic is a resonant character study with outstanding performances, clever use of stagecraft tools and a powerful story with an all-encompassing ending that will stick with you long after you leave the Lion & Unicorn Theatre. If you want to submerge yourself in a deep examination of queer love, complicated family dynamics and how hard it is to understand life, then you should definitely get yourself a ticket.