This bold and sensitive production
Osmond’s production has immense style … A revolving stage is deployed to shift between universes with surprising panache.
It is rare to find such a complex story so beautifully told.
With this degree of skill shown in the theatrical realisation…you are unlikely to come across a better production of this particularly thought-provoking play.
Osmond’s multi-layered production captures such seeming disparity between movement and stillness near perfectly.
I can’t fault Osmond’s intelligent, playful production.
Possible Worlds follows a romantic relationship through shifts in time and space. John Mighton’s play won Canada’s prestigious Governor General’s Award.
Some scripts can leave you hungry, disappointed by a lack of ambition, a lack of exploration. Possible Worlds isn’t one of those – it embraces enormous notions over its brief running time. It’s a love story, a mystery, a profound exploration of our needs and desires, all woven together with beautiful simplicity and aching stillness.
Having options may be liberating, but they can be overwhelming too. One minute we’re experimenting with Buddhism, the next we’re surfing the net. We can lead so many lives that it can be hard to hold onto a true sense of who we are. The characters in Possible Worlds are confronted by the same dilemma. It’s no accident that much of the dialogue slips into the past tense. There’s a real sense of loss, of regret, embedded in this play’s fibres.
The central character, George, keeps slipping between parallel universes. We wanted the audience to share in the strange sensation that George feels when these shifts occur. The first time that it happens, George rushes out of a restaurant in pursuit of a woman, only to find himself standing in an office about to have a job interview. By using a revolving stage to shift the action seamlessly from one location to the next, we were able to unite character and audience in their sudden bewilderment.
John Mighton has commented, ‘what attracts me to theatre is that it’s a work of collective intelligence. I’ve been trying to leave out more and more in my work. If you don’t leave room for the intelligence of the actors and the audience there’s no point in doing it.’
John pares his writing down to the absolute essence. What that means is that often you need to leave space around moments to allow them to resonate. On the first day of rehearsals, the read-through took forty minutes – but the actual production lasted twice as long. It finished with a wordless slow fade that lasted several minutes, as the characters slipped away from view…