Ushered into a dark room little bigger than an industrial warehouse lift at Porter’s Bar’s The Other Room, Huno – the theatre debut by local playwright Tamar Williams – invites its intimate audience to witness a disintegrating marriage, surprisingly, in the most eloquent and moving of ways. Apart from its set design – a square edge of water, with a small central stage where the two actors occasionally wade and dip their toes – Huno offers nothing particularly new by way of its theme or artistic delivery.
This is no criticism – rather, a great example of why one needn’t endlessly reinvent the wheel. After all, if it turns, and it does, then the audience need only buckle up and enjoy the ride! The play’s title (Welsh for ‘unite’) attempts to tap into mankind’s timeless call to lay differences aside and rejoice in society’s shared humanity regardless of national divides. Observed here on the micro level, within the tangle of a lovers’ relationship.
A steady mixture of English and Welsh from the very start, Huno creates an atmosphere of mystery and otherness that a marginal tongue and accent can so easily and effortlessly evoke. Following the progression of native-born Branwen (Lowri Izzard) and Northern Irish Math (David Craig) from a chance encounter at the former’s family pub in Wales, through to their betrothal and subsequent discontent in Northern Ireland, the play gradually draws stark lines between the two, showing how a fervant nationalism and desire for home and a patriotic cause can pose some of the greatest challenges to love.
Branwen’s early smitten declaration, “I get the strangest feeling when I’m with you – like the future’s all taken care of…” to a later exchange (“This land beats in your blood”; “You’re right, it’s poisoned us!”) lets the audience know just how far they’ve come in witnessing the relationship’s decline.
Well-paced, Huno’s ominous mood and tension grows at a steady cadence, refusing to spell out too early what the play is all about. Furthermore, the musical score provides a subtle accompaniment, turning from harmonious Celtic violins and violas to brooding, discordant synths. And despite there being clear references to the IRA and the Irish conflict, it’s just about ambiguous enough to apply to various troubles across the globe.
There are subtle references to modern-day ills such as the addictive, divisive role of social media and environmental catastrophe: talk of “rising water” and “a burning world” mixed with Branwen imploring Math to “stop scrolling”. Ultimately, however, Huno is an exploration of love, and whether or not it can survive amongst competing forces. A timeless question perhaps, yet asked here with enough terror, beauty and grace to appeal to the widest of audiences.
The Other Room, Porter’s, Cardiff, Wed 20 July
On until Sun 31 July. Tickets: £5-£12. Info: here
words OLIVER R. MOORE-HOWELLS
