The 7 Stages of Grieving
Reviewed by Deborah Klugman
The Skylight Theatre
Through November 24
In the 24 years since it premiered in Brisbane, Australia, The 7 Stages of Grieving has evolved into a modern Australian classic. Written by Wesley Enoch and Deborah Mailman, both of Aboriginal extraction, it’s an hour-long one-woman show that speaks to the history and culture of Australia’s indigenous people — who, like Native Americans, African-Americans and Latinos in this country, historically have been disrespected, oppressed and the victims of genocide, both real and cultural.
Directed by Jason Klarwein, the current production at the Skylight Theatre is a “re-imagining” of the material, conceived in 2015 by Australia’s Grin and Tonic Theatre Troupe and Queensland Theatre. It features performer Chenoa Deemal (of the First Nations Guugu Yimithirr tribe), who in 2017 toured in the role throughout New South Wales and Victoria, appearing in London as well.
The script, divided into 25 segments, alternates between the recollections of a woman who shares stories from her family history, and sequences in which the narrator recounts a piece of Aboriginal history, such as the first landing of a British fleet in 1788 or a protest march in our present day. In the former category are anecdotes about the death of a beloved grandmother, the impending demise of a dad, and the encounter of the narrator’s brother with police, which resulted in his losing his job and ultimately his direction in life. One sequence that will be all too familiar to Americans of color is the narrator’s account of being singled out for surveillance in a retail store and another where she’s asked to prove that the car she is driving actually belongs to her.
Design elements are notable. The mesmerizing opening image has the spotlighted performer (lighting by Dan Anderson) circumnavigating the otherwise dark stage, casting gleaming white pebbles onto its floor to form the circle that defines the outer limits of her playing space. (Later, she’ll etch a smaller one with illuminating blue stones.) Justin Harrison’s outstanding aural design is a complex cacophony that gives macrocosmic dimension to this impressionistic portrait of a people who have endured for centuries. Harrison is also credited with the show’s audiovisuals, which manifest in striking abstract images projected on the back wall, like astral eruptions in space, and the culminating effect of a white chyron melting like so much ice.
But the text itself remains something of a patchwork, less tightly woven and comprehensive than one might wish it to be. And the performance I observed, while ably performed, bore the stamp of one presented many times before, without the fresh keen edge that would keep it memorable.
The Skylight Theatre, 1816 ½ Vermont Ave., Los Feliz; Thurs., 8 p.m.; Fri.-Sat., 8:30 p.m.; Sun., 3 p.m.; through Nov. 24. (866) 811-4111 or www.skylighttix.com. Running time: approximately one hour.
