The play Konstantin, which was written by Ultan Pringle and directed by Julia Applebee, was arguably one of the most profound pieces performed in Players Theatre this term. It encapsulated the hardships of love, the tragedy of loss and the heartbreak of letting go through the love story of Ally and Nina.
The play follows the two girls as they fall in and out of love from the young age of 19, and presents their life in a series of flash scenes over 50 years. Both ineffably touching and heartbreaking, the play explores the concept of love, and the idea that one can’t seem to live with or without it. Frankly, the play is difficult to criticise due to its raw dialogue and the stark reality of the scenes – simple, yet immensely powerful.
I can’t emphasise the brilliance of the dialogue enough. The story is one of a mundane, simple life, almost hidden away in an alternate reality adorned by the joys of music and the ever-present eccentric spirit of the ethereal Konstantin – the man who once lived in the lighthouse. It shows the peculiar ambiguities of love through complex topics including parenthood, loss and heartbreak.
There was a fascinating dichotomy between the two protagonists, which made the play rather interesting to watch. Their contrasting characters ornamented the plot, as it was these major complexities that emphasised the depth of their love.
What I loved most about this play was the paradoxical feelings it evoked in me. Despite both Nina and Ally being strong characters, neither of them were likeable or inherently good. Both of them were flawed, and I felt that they both clung onto the familiarity and comfort that their simple love produced. Yet it was evident that this seemingly beautiful love was also deeply problematic. Pringle beautifully illustrated that sometimes love can be mutually damaging. Despite the characters’ contentment, neither of them truly lived up to their life’s ambitions and settled in hopes that the answer would simply be love. Yet this play perfectly expresses that this is not always the case.
The set was beautifully constructed, with a predominantly pastel palette reflecting a simple life by the sea, but also adding to the immense sense of alienation. The notion of home was ideally depicted, as the disorganised appearance of the lighthouse gave a lived-in feeling, mirroring a frantic life. Nothing was ever missing – except for maybe an escape ladder.
Finally, the actors – Jilly McGrath and Amy Scollard – were very well cast and tackled the difficulties of their characters well. Despite having some powerful line deliveries, there were some weak moments that arguably lacked the chemistry that had been evident throughout. The intimate scenes were beautifully articulated on stage, yet there were some scenes, particularly after the son’s death, which I felt lacked in delivery.
In retrospect, however, the execution was impactful, particularly considering the limited time for preparation. Perhaps the most poignant scene in the production was centred on a laptop. The scene was constructed in a moment of immense tension as Ally forces Nina to listen to a song recorded by their son (Sammy O’Keefe) before his untimely death. The preceding argument is followed by a painful silence as Nina slams the laptop down, creating what was perhaps the most profound moment in the play.
Konstantin is a touching and immensely evocative drama that perfectly captured an ordinary – and extraordinary – life. It isn’t just a story of love and loss, but a story of a life.
Konstantin will run at 7pm tonight in Players Theatre.
