When I think about human-led destruction in its many facets, I feel fatigued. The world has been burning both metaphorically and literally long before I was born, and at my most nihilistic, I don’t care, because it will probably burn regardless. This is all to say that Love Stories made me care again, and it might make you care again – which is a beautiful and rare thing to find in these unprecedented times.
Describing Love Stories is a tall task, especially without spoilers. It discusses a myriad of topics over its 50 minute runtime, from butterfly heists to NICU trauma, with everything – including a 5 minute craft interval! – squished in between. But despite being a lot of things, everything is so purposeful, each thought curated, each word spoken specifically, each frame of the projection crafted meticulously, all towards this grander narrative about the things we love, the things we lose, and the stories we remember them by.
Love Stories. Photography by Phoebe Eames.
The show is performed by three actors, all of whom play an exaggerated form of themselves. A point that I loved about the show is how this broad and chaotic theme of love and loss is framed through the actor-of-focus’s interest: Eliza Smith is interested in butterflies, Clea Purkis is interested in whales, and William Gammel is interested in radio and music. Each scene that each leads fit neatly into these themes of love and the stories between, as if peering through a set of windows three. There is something magical about seeing someone talk about their legitimate interest on stage, especially when their personal stories and favourite anecdotes so perfectly intertwine at the end.
The fourth character of the three person cast was Delaney Burke, running the AV like a savant. The projections were outstandingly effective within its simplicity, showing lightly edited iPhone footage of iconic scenes in Boorloo (the waves, the train station, too many birds flying over), arranged so creatively over thin fabric sheets and plasterboard in a way that felt like poetry. What really pushes Love Stories to the next level, in my opinion, is the minimalist, naturalistic ambient music by Tao Issaro that perpetuates and textures throughout the performance – all collating into this professionalism in the production that is hard to replicate in DIY local theatre.
Love Stories. Photography by Phoebe Eames.
If this show was 10% worse, I might recommend it to lovers of animal facts, lovers of the natural world we inhabit, and lovers of love. But the fact is that Love Stories is one of the best Blue Room shows I’ve seen. I struggle to find anything to criticise – maybe the dialogue was at times slightly unnatural in its writing – but that in itself gives a theatrical energy that adds to the whole experience. It’s funny, considered, light, and heavy, all at once. And I haven’t even spoken about the staging! There’s a literal hay bale in the middle of the stage! What’s that about?
Of course there’s a lot I could postulate about the hay bale, there’s a lot to say about this show in general, but this show communicates its message so beautifully that I cried at the end, so I’ll shut up and let the remaining ticket holders experience it for themselves. Keep a tab on stop drop + roll productions as they’ve got something magical in their fingers, get a ticket to this show if it isn’t all sold out by the time this review airs, and read the interview with the team on Magazine 6000 if you can’t. If you love anything (which I hope you do), you’ll love Love Stories.
Love Stories is on at The Blue Room Theatre from July 1-5.