BY OISÍN FLORES SWEENEY
Reading the brief description of Unspeakable Conversations online, I feared that I was in for 85 minutes of deeply political theatre. Instead, I was treated to 70 minutes of pure joy.
Peter Singer, an Australian philosopher and academic, and Harriet McBryde Johnson, an American lawyer and disability rights activist, took part in a debate at Princeton University, which later formed the basis for Johnson’s Unspeakable Conversations article in The New York Times. The subject of the debate: should parents be allowed to kill their disabled babies within the first few months of their lives.
Singer puts forward the idea that parents should have a choice, whereas Johnson refutes this notion. Mat Fraser plays Singer and Liz Carr plays Johnson, but they both also play themselves. And strangely, I was much more interested in hearing from Fraser and Carr than Singer and Johnson. Whether this detracts from the overall purpose of the piece, I cannot be certain. But one way or another, this feels like an important play.
As I’ve said before, political theatre that bangs you over the head with an idea is tiresome. An audience has no interest in hearing a playwright’s moralist stance on a particular issue dragged out over the course of an hour and a half. The purpose should be to pose questions, ignite debate and force people to interrogate an issue on a deeper level.
The ending, although powerful, appeared to carry the message that all life is precious; an idea that I’m pretty sure most of the audience were in agreement with before darkening the door of the theatre. But maybe Singer and Johnson are not the main focus this play? Perhaps their stories only serve as a backdrop or framework, through which O’Reilly shines a light on a much simpler issue: our treatment of those with disabilities.
For those who don’t know, The Mick Lally Theatre is a very small space. When Fraser and Carr emerge at the start, they pull no punches, getting up close and personal with the audience, looking people directly in the eye as they deliver their opening lines. Admittedly, I didn’t know where to look at first. It was quite intimidating, but that may have been the intention.
They discuss how people sometimes find it difficult to look at them, as well as some of the strange, offensive comments people have made about their appearances in the past. But as the play progresses, we realise that those with disabilities should not only be accepted in modern society, but embraced.
As Johnson points out, she wouldn’t want a dull, mundane, ordinary life. If this was the case, she would not have been able to make such a positive impact, and therefore, life may have been less meaningful.
Over the course of 70 minutes, we become fully accustomed to Fraser and Carr; their physical appearances, their warm, bubbly personalities and their quick-witted banter. By the end, we have fallen for them both. Carr is endlessly charming, and as Fraser proudly points out himself, he is an incredibly handsome man.
Throw in some stories, jokes, laughs and dancing, and Unspeakable Conversations proves to be a thoroughly enjoyable play with a positive message.
