Review: Afterglow at Chapel Off Chapel

Review by Greg Gorton

After major successes in New York and London, Afterglow is having its Australian debut and will surely have just as much success. It is a large, beautiful production filled with humour and pathos, with enticing dialogue and passionate physicality. While it has its elements that might provide some minor annoyance, in all its a play most will love.

Afterglow was written, directed, and choreographed by S Asher Gelman, and so it is important to note that the directorial vision and written vision is the same. This is a play about a couple of men, about to have a surrogate baby, who bring a third into their bedroom. It’s not uncommon for them to have threesomes, but when one becomes attached to the third, things get complicated.

If it sounds like a cliched premise, it is. And no, the plot doesn’t take any path that isn’t completely predictable. But the plot isn’t where the interest in this play lies. It’s less what the story is and more how it is told. 

Afterglow is told with a sense of Hollywood hyper-realism: the three men are physical adonis’, offered up with full nudity, choreography highly influenced by modern dance, and quite passionate love scenes. Dialogue is filled with Tarantino-esque discussions of romance movies, coupled with intense conversations about trust, desire, and responsibility. It’s a decidedly modern text, often referencing generation gaps and how they might  impact the way we are influenced by culture to see our current relationships.And it is told on what might be the most genius small set I have ever seen.

The set, designed by Ann Beyerdofer, lends itself highly to photographable moments. A large room with mirrored walls, and a hanging bed in the center of the stage converts itself a number of times into dining rooms, smaller apartments, party venues, and even showers. The lighting, by Jamie Roderick, is a complex mixture of strip neon, early 20th century bulbs and colourful mood lighting that washes the complete stage. Changing of the set is done by the actors in character, in highly choreographed movements that sometimes even include little scenes that highlight their relationships at the time.

Most of the acting also falls into a similar vein; the character work is produced by highly specific choreography rather than any developed chemistry between the actors. The stylised lines are spoken, but not spoken to, but the heavy physicality of the work means that it is barely noticed at the time. The actors here are impressive, Matthew Mitcham being especially expressive in his movements. Julian Curtis appears more comfortable in the times he is performing more traditional theatre moments, While Matthew Predny is the actor most able to switch between the two forms with ease.

There are reasons why an audience member may struggle to connect with Afterglow. You might find the play a little anti-polygamous in its message (although I personally believe it never attempts to make this argument). You might also be slightly frustrated by yet more attempts by 21st century theatre to find alternatives to the movie montage, or the middling attempts at American accents (a personal frustration of mine). However, I think even these obstacles can be overcome by sitting back and simply enjoying the beauty that has been placed on stage, and accepting that it is only skin deep.

I will be surprised if Afterglow doesn’t receive wide praise from audiences, with its gorgeous choreography and jaw-drapping set design. While it may not be particularly deep as a story, this modern tale is engaging enough to walk away feeling like you have seen something worthy of your night out. 

Image Supplied