Holding up a lens to the complication experience of grief, Deluge is an absurd, tender and life-affirming piece that leaves a lasting impression

What’s left when someone leaves? This was the overarching question in Andrea Maciel and Gabriela Flarys’ production Deluge, an experimental piece of multimedia theatre examining the universally confusing experience of loss. Opening with a curdling scream and Flarys dressed in red-stained garms, it was evident that this show would combine alarm and humour in equal measure. 

Having broken up with her jam-making partner, the protagonist was in a state of disorientation as she examines how her loss has manifested. It’s the awkward weight of a ladder clunking on her back, the sound of a piano key played with tinnitus-like repetition, the lingering smell of fruit and jammy splatters on her clothes. The empty house has become a vessel for her bewilderment and grief; imagery of jellyfish emerging from the fridge in her tear-flooded home had childlike wonder to it, until the painful truth rang out, “If I drown, so be it.” 

We fill structural cracks with jam. Inanimate objects like pianos and wind-up dogs take on the companion role in an empty home. Poor communication in dating and the threat of infidelity are realised with notions of fighting Komodo dragons in battle. Throughout the piece, the strength of Flarys’ storytelling lay in the ability to blur gritty reality with the dreamlike absurd – mirroring the very nature of deep emotional pain. 

Woven into the main narrative were tender stories from real-life interviews, gathered by Flarys in the construction of the show. The protagonist affectionately called on these snippets of conversation to try and make sense of her own loss, the most poignant of all being a woman whose ovary tissue was removed, only for a tiny piece of the membrane to grow again. This notion that in absence there’s always going to be a tiny bit of life was a particularly affecting part of the show, which was then immediately undercut by impish comedy and joltier movements – maintaining the unpredictability of both Deluge as a theatrical piece, and loss in our human experience.  

I was astounded at Flarys’ broad-ranging vocal and physical abilities. Using movement to express feelings we often find so difficult to put into words is a beautiful thing – something she does with boundless energy, charm and sincerity. The piece had such a vibrant sense of pace with its combination of clowning, live music, projection and dance; these fragmented vignettes were a perfect way to express how difficult it is to ‘move on’, how busy your own emotional spectrum can be in the wake of loss. 

I’m sure Deluge’s experimental form won’t be for everyone, but I personally can’t wait to see where Maciel and Flarys take this next. Its originality, charm and truthfulness gives it a resonance that lasts way beyond the curtain call.