Lurking Truths' Land of My Fathers: Musings & More

I’d been looking forward to seeing Lurking Truths’ Land of My Fathers since last year. My interest peaked close too Infinity War levels of excited, and it didn’t disappoint. The show was originally meant to be staged in February at Aberystwyth Art Centre but because of the snow and subsequent theatre refurbishment, the show had to be postponed and relocated to the Castle Theatre.

This was the first live theatre show I’ve ever seen in the Castle and to be honest it’s hard to picture it staged in the originally intended venue. The space was far more intimate with an entirely front facing audience. There was this particular lighting effect which two of the actors created by standing opposite each other using handheld torches. The torches were facing the opposing actor which cast shadows on the opposing walls. It was visually captivating in scene, but it wouldn’t have had the same sense of space in the original venue, without the use of purpose-built partition walls to cast shadows on, which would have detracted from the visual appeal of the effect. It was very simple but highly effective.

Land of My Fathers didn’t have the best luck with weather. First with the snow and then opening night with the rain. On my walk to the theatre, I got soaked to the bone. No word of a lie, by the time I reached the venue, I looked and felt like a drowned rat. I arrived about quarter of an hour before the scheduled start time. Most of the audience was already waiting in a somewhat cramped lobby. The whole experience of waiting felt almost like a happenstance exordium of sorts. Watching the audience entering through the old wooden doors reminded me of a scene from a murder mystery cliché. It would have been great if the door played the sound FX I had in my head. Some ominous music, highlighting the dramatic entrances of the drenched audience clambering to escape the treacherous elements.

The performance got underway with three actors on stage all wearing dark clothes and balaclavas. One of the actors had some subtle yet distinct variations in dress. The knee on one of their jeans was ripped open and their balaclava was pulled down in such a way, that their nose stuck out over the top of the mouth hole. We would later see that the actor (Russel Gomer) who had these variations in dress has longer hair and is older than the other actors. All these variations eluded to the fact that this character was somehow and in some fundamental way, different to the others.

One of my favourite parts of the opening scene was the use of light or rather the absence of light. One of the characters was speaking in centre stage, which was well lit and then stepped backwards into the darkness, becoming a silhouette against the screen. This concept of stepping between two worlds, light and dark served to illustrate a sense of intangible foreboding.

The script itself is a whirlwind of style and skill.  Bouncing from witty poeticism to well-placed and expertly timed quips. It’s well seasoned with pop culture references but not overly so. The references compliment the piece rather then adding a definitive sense of date.  If anything, the play is far more poignant now then it would have been in its initial date back in February. This largely relates to the rapid escalation of tensions between Israel and Iran. I think, the script is only going to become even more poignant as more time elapses and the middle-east continues to grow more volatile.

The play deals with a complex issue which is not really given much consideration outside of commercially exploitable entertainment. I’m referring to modern day mercenaries. Ex-service men who find themselves working in the private security sector. There are countless video-games and action movies that feature soldiers of fortune. We are, in many ways, persuaded by media to normalize these growing industries, that are sparsely regulated and regularly abused to suit state and or corporate interests. Perhaps it’s fair to say that the lines between state and corporate interest are increasingly indistinguishable. The reality of ex-service men working overseas in the private security sector depicted in Land of My Fathers is alarming without being alarmist.  

What kind of life is expected for ex-servicemen? There is of course a high rate of homelessness veterans. We train boys to fight and kill and don’t know what to do with the broken men they become. I imagine that it’s difficult to adjust back to civilian life when you’ve been living in hostile territories for extended periods of time. There are many real people just like the characters portrayed in Land of My Fathers, who feel they can’t go home. There is nothing there for them. They depend on the continuity of order, regiment and economic stability that the army and in turn private security firms provide. John O’Brien’s post-show comparison of mercenaries to Japanese Ronin was a shift in perspective that I would never have considered or anticipated.

The evolving character dynamic and narrative are both philosophically charged and conventionally entertaining, which is a difficult feat to pull off convincingly. The faultless performance from the cast brought this lavish banquet of wordplay to full fruition. Yet, I have this lingering bittersweet quandary on the tip of my tongue, is it possible to have too much of a good thing? Perhaps my only legitimate criticism is that it might be a victim of its own innate brilliance. The text alone is a concerto of speech that is easy to get swept in and away by. The animated backgrounds were fascinating and created distinctive visual scenes. There was an interesting use of interplay between the live action on stage and the looped action on screen. From a technical perspective, what really impressed me was how the looped action of a bartender (Przemyslaw Sobkowicz) in an empty bar was used for the actors to interact with during a scene set in a pub. This was when I think the visuals worked best. When they were used as an extension of the drama rather than a contextualized or juxtaposed backdrop. There was a lot of intricate details to unpack. For example, there was a rotating vase, that altered its illustration with each revolution. All of these carefully crafted images presented so much esoteric information that at times it was distracting from the unfolding narrative. The visuals are highly innovative, and the drama and dialogue are well crafted and delivered. Yet the mind can only stretch so far. When our attention is being drawn towards conflicting angles of awesome, it’s easy for the senses to be overwhelmed.

Piotr Woycicki’s drawings inspired by Picasso’s Minotaur’s were particularly interesting. Least of all because of the dialogue that accompanied the animated sequence. This concept of a Minotaur squatting in a maze reminded me of Dostoevsky’s White Bear Problem i.e. Ironic Process Theory.

One of the most prominent lines which struck a chord in my minds eye was “if you don’t know what you stand for, it’s not easy to figure out how to defend it”. The idea expressed in the sentence resonates an unescapably powerful truth. In the west, soldiering is a career path. The armed forces are made up of individuals that don’t necessarily subscribe to the same level of blind patriotism that was demanded only a few generations ago. Now we wage wars for pay cheques whilst the other side fights for survival. If we only stand for our own selfish interests, then we shall always stand apart and forever remain divided.

Another concept which was brought to light and picked apart was security versus freedom. How we no longer desire freedom to do things, but rather freedom from things. It’s true, we surrender more and more of our civil liberties in the name of personal and or national security, every minute of every day. That’s the horrendously marvellous thing about good theatre, it doesn’t strive to unearth solutions to the problematic topics they’re engaging with. Instead, it lays bare an interpreted sense of truth for the audience to infer an intellectually independent response.  In Land of My Fathers, truth didn’t just lurk around every turn of phrase, it leap out ferociously from all conceivable directions.

Although it’s not set in Wales, the play is definitely Welsh. It would be interesting to see how the play would be received if staged outside of Wales. Perhaps targeting audiences of Welsh diaspora, such as New York and Patagonia. Or, to truly push artistic limitations and socio-political boundaries, have the production staged in some kind of monumental space, like camp Bastion for example. Drawing inspiration from Banksy and Boyles Alternativity.

There was one particular line which I felt was both a nod and response to Howard Barker. Chiefly in relation to Barkers veneration of the word Cunt. By contrast Land of My Fathers leads us to believe that Rabey favours the word Combat.  Prior to seeing Land of My Fathers, I’d have said Controversary was the most important word. However, hearing the shifting variations between cunt, combat and controversary in my mind made me realise how similar they all were. They are all in-fact catalysts for dramaturgical methodologies.

From the offset, I knew I wanted to write about the show, but didn’t feel I had taken it all in from just one viewing. So, I went along to the second night. This time, I sat on the opposing side of the seating area. To look at things from an entirely fresh perspective. This time around, my criticisms had been ironed out and the whole show felt indescribably streamlined. I don’t know what was so different. The animation seemed to have a better sense of rhythm with the staged action. The pace of the animation seemed slower, more focused. I can’t really explain why it felt so different the second time around. Perhaps it was in part due to the fact that the background didn’t dominate so much of my attention. I was able to focus more on the stage action and dialogue. The charisma of the actors really shone through during the parody of 70s rock anthem You Aint Seen Nothing Yet, which was supercharged with colloquial place names designed to get a chuckle from the audience.

For the second time, a few lines of dialogue spoke to me. The character of Owain (Oliver Morgan-Thomas) Talked about coming from Cwmpuke and having the desire to escape and seek a better future in the city. Being in a slightly similar situation, I was able to empathize with the characters’ motivation and extrapolate their perception of truth and apply it to my own circumstances. Isn’t that the true function of theatre? The hope that the audience can take away some intrinsic part of the performance and apply it to their own lives, to their own way of thinking.

The culmination of the narrative came in the form of a revelation that Cai (Huw Blainey) worships a representation of death. Oddly enough a direct comparison to Infinity War can be made. Not to the film but to the original source material. As the antagonist, Thanos is also obsessed with pleasing a personification of death.

One of the most unnerving moments in the performance was when Cai (Huw Blainey) asks Iestyn (Russell Gomer) for a cwtsh (hug). It’s just a single softly spoken word that lingers in the air. Cai’s arms outstretched, seemingly seeking a forgiving embrace from Iestyn, who pauses for half a moment. Looking at the audience, asking the question with his eyes, should he cwtsh Cai? They do, but then Cai gouges out Iestyn’s eyes. The physicality of the scene and awareness of space is excellent. Iestyn’s back is to the audience so the gory implication is conveyed through their movements. In the struggle, they rotate 180 degrees and Iestyn is brought to the floor. Cai straddles Iestyn’s torso and strangles the life out of him with his bare hands, whilst singing a Welsh song. Meanwhile, Owain (Oliver Morgan-Thomas) watches on. Iestyn’s murder is blamed on Iraqi insurgents. It’s the second time that Owain and Cai escape any traditional sense of justice for their actions. There is a reference to them being above the law, that they are like sheriffs in the wild west. I don’t think they are above the law, but they are certainly beyond the conventional reach of it. Land of My Fathers does a great job of illuminating some of the shadier areas of 21^st century accountability.

Having spent the past three years being a student of Rabey, Sobkowicz and Woycicki, it was great to get the opportunity to utilize the tools of critical thought and evaluation they taught me to examine their work. It’s an interesting paradigm shift, seeing them not just as teachers but as active practitioners in the wider artistic community. The performance was good the first night, and even better the second night. I think it would be interesting to see how the show would evolve on a tour across Wales.