Review: ECHO at Malthouse Theatre

Review by Greg Gorton

If you are considering going to see ECHO: Every Cold-Hearted Oxygen at Malthouse, I highly recommend you stop right now, get tickets, and come back to this review later. I’m serious. The more blind you are going in, the better this show gets. And yes, in the end, I recommend it.

Of course, if you have stumbled upon this review, you like knowing the ins and outs anyway, and most of the spoilers have been done for you anyway. You know it's a play that involves one of seven actors, unprepared, coming on stage to interact with writer Nassim Soleimanpor in a variety of ways, telling a tale about memory, family, migration, home, and time. A universal story filled with love and heartache, told with clever audio-visual tricks and with expectations of connecting with a production in a new way.

You would (mostly) be right in those assumptions, and for most people, the expectations they brought into the theatre would be fulfilled and more. ECHO is a fascinating piece of theatre that has many elements to connect with. We all can empathise with “trying to find home”, and the oral and visual poetry with which Soleimanpor writes is undeniably beautiful. If theatrical awards were based on single photographs of any moment from a show, then the accolades would rain down on this deceptively simple set. Still, given time and space from the theatre, an hour to be exact, I already find myself rapidly disconnecting from everything that I have witnessed. I think it is because I witnessed it, while someone else had the experience.

I need to reiterate, the language in this production is fantastic (as in, of a fantasy). There is some of the most beautiful poetry I have ever listened to, and some of the audio-visual effects (especially towards the end of the show) were moving. Derek Richards’ digital and set design moves so smoothly between the alienating, the comforting, the personal, and the universal. While there is some audio-visual trickery in this show, the real magic is how the sound, lights, visuals, and words play as orchestral instruments… One could argue that the trickery just gets in the way.

Anna Clock, the sound designer, might have produced the most engaging piece of audio magic I’ve experienced at the Malthouse, single-handedly creating the only moment where I felt fully and truly connected to the world on stage. It was a visceral moment for me - not jarring or aggressive, but insistent all the same. At other times, the sound design is more subtle, but equally as impressive, with little musical cues, sound effects, and playful call-and-responses between screen and stage.

The actor for opening night was Australian heartthrob and Hollywood actor Ben Lawson (Bombshell, The Good Place, Firefly Lane). Coming on stage, he quickly proves that he comes unprepared, an empty vessel, or limber puppet, to be used by Soleimanpor however the playwright wishes. Lawson is a little reticent when it comes to vulnerability, as any public figure might when asked the questions he was in the first five minutes. These early moments offer us a raw piece of theatre in which “the actor” (which is the best way to describe the role) is given agency. While these moments do not last long, there is a clear reason why, and Lawson willingly follows where he must. 

However, the rapid loss of agency, and the expectations put on Lawson sadly had me asking: Why Lawson? In fact, why any of the seven casting choices for “the actor”. The only thing they have in common is some experience on stage and a recognisable name. But a footballer would have just as much experience as required. A refugee who had spoken about their experience on stage would have. “The actor” didn’t need to be able to walk, did not need to be of a certain age or background. All they needed to be was someone with a clear speaking voice who would do as they are told. So why did we get these seven names? Who will most certainly do amazing jobs, but no more amazing than anyone else?

Reviewers have been asked to do their best not to spoil too much of this play, and for good reason (see my first paragraph). I do still think it is safe that, if you have read this far, you discover that Soleimanpor does not just play a role as writer/director/facilitator, but also at times plays the role of actor. However, these moments where he is no longer “Nassim” but is “playing a different Nassim” are disappointingly obvious, but I cannot think of a way around it myself. Likewise, there are some other minor actors in moments of this show who all lose their authenticity. I think we can all agree that it is difficult to “play yourself”, and for many of us even difficult to be simply filmed like a documentary, but compared to the highly-polished other elements of this show, it is a little jarring. 

I love that live theatre has the ability to take the risks that ECHO does, I only wished it went further. As this show is being produced, a similar show is preparing for its sold-out debut in Edinburgh. It too is a show between creator and unprepared but willing “actor”. Except the audience, the single audience member, is that actor. That’s what I wish ECHO had. By my definition of theatre, at least, I wasn’t the audience tonight - Ben Lawson was the audience, and I was just the voyeur. This said, YAY for risky theatre, and ECHO is a great introduction to it.

I HIGHLY recommend checking out ECHO, especially if you get nervous about “different” shows like this. ECHO is the perfect introduction to how interesting theatre can be without ever making a person feel uncomfortable about what they are experiencing. ECHO has some of the most amazing visuals you see, the most beautiful poetry you will hear, and a story that will tug at the heartstrings.

Image Supplied