Thursday night at the Omnibus Theatre, I had the pleasure of watching  Surfacing, an incredible play written by Tom Powell and directed by Stephen Bailey of Asylum Arts, known for The Real and Imagined History of the Elephant Man. Developed in collaboration with neurodivergent communities and medical professionals, the play is a commentary on mental health, shared vulnerabilities and the power we all have to help one another heal.  The production featured Sarah Livingstone as Luc, a CBT therapist, and Jerome Yates as Owen the “service user”, her long-awaited client. 

The play is set in a mental health therapy centre and begins with Luc on an ‘admin day’. Owen, who has been on the waiting list for seven months, finally arrives, only to be asked to rate his distress numerically. Frustrated, he walks out, hoping for a chance to discuss things he couldn’t share with anyone else. This seemingly simple interaction sets off a powerful exploration of mental health, as Luc’s own struggles begin to mirror those of her clients. Her journey through self-doubt and anxiety felt to me like diving headfirst into a rabbit hole. 

My first impressions of Surfacing were genuinely positive. Right from the start, I was completely absorbed into Luc’s world. Sarah Livingstone’s performance was exceptional, truly capturing the nuanced struggles of a therapist dealing with her own inner demons. Jerome Yates was equally compelling, bringing Owen’s frustration and vulnerability to life with remarkable authenticity. The chemistry between the two characters was palpable, underscoring their shared experiences and highlighting the theme of common vulnerability in a profound way.  It helped with propping here and there the dialogue that at times felt overly written. 

One of the most striking elements of the play was the development of Luc’s character. Initially composed and rational, Luc’s facade begins to crack as her anxiety spirals. This unravelling is brilliantly visualized with dialogue projected onto the screen behind her—her spoken words on one side, and her spiralling thoughts on the other. Attention to detail is brilliant: her rational thoughts are displayed in neat, orderly fonts, while her erratic thoughts are generated in a less structured font, veering off in uneven lines. As her self-doubt intensifies, these thoughts manifest as auditory and visual hallucinations, clear manifestations of her mental state. The critical voices in her head become a character of their own, physically enacted on stage, adding a tangible dimension to her internal struggle.

The technological aspects of the production truly impressed me.  The use of motion sensor technology to create responsive light and sound effects heightened the sense of disassociation. Watching Luc’s hallucinations being physically enacted by her co-actor, alongside the projected dialogue, added depth to the storytelling and made the message of the play more accessible. The stage design, with its minimal props, kept the focus on the actors and their performances. Surfacing is not about sentimentality. It is a raw and honest portrayal of mental health. This play is a powerful call for kindness and a critique of current mental health treatment norms, encouraging us to look beyond the surface. If you ever have the chance to see this extraordinary play, don’t miss it. It’s a much-needed reminder of crucial it is to truly listen to one another to overcome mental health challenges.