powerfully moving
Float is a new production by Northern Irish writers Kirby Thompson and Orla Graham, co-directed by Thompson and Caoimhe McGee. From the outset, we’re welcomed into a student house party in Belfast with ‘the girls’. Music playing, guests greeted, and the rules for drinking card game ‘Kings’ are queried. We meet Erin (played by Ellen Andrews) – playing it safe as she’s got a presentation on Charles Dickens tomorrow; Mia (Annina Noelle Watton) her friend since childhood with no such restraint; Grace (Leah Williamson), who is mooning over her loser boyfriend Jacob; and Caitlyn (Orla Graham), who loses at Kings and spends much of the evening “boking up her ring”. So far, so typical of a house-share with friends, where household chores come second to enjoying yourselves, and a clean girl aesthetic skin care regime, and general crises about how women are supposed to have everything figured out.
However, following Erin’s assault at the party by someone they know, the plot takes a darker turn, as they explore the complexities of the aftermath. We hear snippets from later conversations between Erin and counsellors, but the overarching theme of her coming to terms with what happened looms large. Mia frequently takes the role of narrator through the performance, speaking for Erin and voicing the emotions that she is yet to communicate. This is an effective mechanism, but the strength and depth of Ellen’s portrayal of Erin, right down to her strained grins and body language means this felt a bit over-explained at time.
There are also seams of humour laced within the script which are deftly balanced to lift the atmosphere with some darkly comic scenes. Mia’s hazardous driving is a stand-out here, as well as Caitlyn demanding new pints in the pub.
Deservedly, the focus is on Erin, not any perceived comeuppance of her attacker. It would have been wildly unrealistic to have wrapped that up in a neat bow of justice – and we know from sexual assault statistics that this wouldn’t have been reflective of the real world, so it’s a real credit to the writers that they shied away from this avenue.
The performances of all four performers is to be commended – the austere set is brought to life by them, so much so that you can almost smell the stale booze and feel the collective hangover. However, Erin’s monologue at the end was incredibly moving, complete with tears shining in her eyes, and accompanied by more than a few sniffles in the audience.
The stories of these women are not new – but this shows exactly why we need to keep telling them. The central tenant that your early 20s are a time where you might not be a fully-fledged adult, but still have to confront some really arduous issues, holds strong. The power of hearing “I believe you” is one that has to be retold, and ultimately, harnessing the power you hold in yourself, so you can loudly let go, to float, and not sink. This is a powerful and deeply empathetic production that deserves to be seen far and wide.