By Aashiq
Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fpOwjdkLVHo
Available until: Unknown
Warnings: 15+, bad language, mental health, physical
violence, murder
Knock Knock is all about Billy, who has dissociative
identity disorder. Several people live inside his mind. They take over his
body, doing what they want to do. It’s difficult for Billy to know what they
did. He thinks they might have done something bad, but that doesn’t mean he
knows what it is. The alters (the standard word for the other personalities) use
his body. They don’t use his mind. Why would they use his mind when they
already have one of their own? Come on. It’s not difficult. There is a certain
logic to mental health problems, but some people just can’t see other people’s
logic, only their own. And yet, they expect us to see theirs, when we’re the
ones who are vulnerable and unwell. Where’s the logic in that, then? Well?
But now somebody wants to know what Billy has done – or rather, what his body has done. He’s in a room with a Woman. He’s severely distressed. He’s struggling to speak; to think; to breathe. She wants him to talk about what happened, but he doesn’t know what happened. Maybe that’s because one of the others was in control. Or maybe it’s because what happened was so terrible, it’s been blocked from his memory.
The Woman is terrifying. She bullies and belittles Billy in
her attempts to get her to remember and it’s horrifically painful to watch her
do that to someone who is so vulnerable and suffering. I would absolutely love
to say that it’s totally unrealistic and someone who works in mental health
would never behave like that. But they would. I’ve met so many like her. Bullying
and belittling and not letting you be you. There are some genuinely terrifying
people in mental health and this woman reminds me so much of them.
(If you want to know why I’d watch the play when it was
upsetting me, here’s my answer. Because it’s absolutely flipping brilliant.
Okay?)
By the end of the play, I understood the Woman and her role
in the play much better, but it was difficult to watch her. Especially when she
bonded so well with one of Billy’s alters. It hurt that she was willing to be
kind and patient with the alter and not with Billy. It’s like life, the way
people cast you aside because you’re just not right and only the theatre world
will tolerate you.
Writer and producer Floyd Toulet has created an intriguing
story which draws you in. Although we don’t see as many alters as I would have
liked (I wanted to see ALL of them! is that too much to ask?) the characters he did create were interesting.
Director Jane Francis keeps the characers separated by a table for much of the
play so anything that causes them to move closer together became a moment of
tension and drama because you don’t know what’s going to happen (and I do love
a bit of drama). Some parts of the play are seen on film rather than onstage
and I like that too. It makes the past seem a little bit further away. A little
bit less real, even. A lot less attainable. The plot has some aspects in common
with Equus, but I didn’t mind. It’s when a play has aspects in common
with plays I don’t like that you really need to worry.
But a lot of the traumatic stuff isn’t shown. That’s
probably a good thing because I don’t want to see anything like that! But you
do see it. In your head. The words written so clearly and acted so
compellingly. It’s left to our imaginations and that’s very effective. We do
have the option to turn away and block it from our minds, as Billy might be
doing. Or we can really get our imaginations go. (I don’t know about anyone
else, but I’m very glad I’m not sleeping on my own tonight. Nightmares could
happen.)
I love the music in this play. Kai Engel’s music is
beautiful, gentle, but with an edge of sadness sort of way. There is also a little
boy who opens the show by singing the start of a nursery rhyme, which he
finishes later on. I’m guessing the singer was Arthur Norman, who appeared as
The Boy in the film flashbacks. Seriously, what a voice! Great tone, perfect
tuning, very clear diction. There are professional adult singers who can’t do
all of those things at once. So much promise as a singer and an actor. So
jealous right now.
Philip Blair is incredible as Billy. The fear, anguish and
vulnerability in him is overpowering. He uses every part of his body to show
how Billy is feeling. It was such a wonderfully accurate portrayal of mental
health problems. I kind of wanted to hug him, but I also didn’t because I
wanted to approach him slowly and carefully and not touch him unless he felt
comfortable with the idea. My heart was absolutely splintering for him.
I bet my husband’s hand felt like it was splintering too because I was
basically cutting off his circulation, but he hasn’t mentioned it.
Lucy Bagley nearly scared the pants off me as the Woman (and
women just don’t get the pants off me in normal circumstances, except sometimes
when we go shopping and I try something on that’s just not meant to be worn
with pants, though it is a bit annoying when our dressing rooms are on opposite
sides of the shop. If we arrange to meet somewhere to compare outfits and I get
distracted by a display of handbags…), but this was another really great
performance. I wasn’t sure if I liked the character of the Woman, but I was
interested in her (no, of course not in that way. Grow up) and intrigued by
her. Although the Woman apparently doesn’t have DID, we do see different sides
of her.
It’s difficult to watch it, but it’s worth it. And there’s
no way I’d say that unless I meant it. Why would I say something was good when
I could have a good moan about it? I’m not that polite. I’m saying this
play is really good for the simple reason that it is.
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