Depression. It is dark, suffocating and all-consuming. Yet, even with the ugliness of it all, there is a sinister beauty that lies within it ““ or so it seems in the play “4.48 Psychosis.”
Theater company Theatre Unleashed offers Sarah Kane’s “4.48 Psychosis,” a tragic story about two women trying to find their way out of their depression.
Thematically, the play is far from simple. It is emotional, heavy and even frightening.
However, what truly helps the play establish its dark ambiance is its stylistic simplicity. There is nothing elaborate in the setting: just a bedroom with mirrors behind it, a sink and a table.
The play further attempts to portray clinical depression through the eyes of the women, whose names are not revealed to the audience. The lighting is dark, which helps bring the audience closer to the characters’ thoughts. There is also a cellist sitting in the corner of the room, who provides the only soundtrack to the play. The heartbreaking music only plays each time the characters are pushed closer to the edge.
The intensity of the play, however, is sealed not by the music or the main actors themselves. Instead, it is the use of mirrors in the play, where you can see a reflected image of a lone ghostly figure, played by Kelly Musson, dancing in a slow, frightening way.
It seems that Musson’s purpose is to enhance the effect of the crumbling minds of the characters. Musson has a lasting effect on the audience, though she mostly stays in the background. Half of the emotional turmoil and the uneasy fear the audience feels can be attributed to her.
Another strong point of the play is the dialogue. Most of the play consists of the two women giving their own monologues, in which they lament their dark, suicidal thoughts, and describing the struggle with their sanity. The lines are erratic ““ sometimes coherent and sometimes confusing. Yet they are also haunting and beautiful, and poetic in every way without losing the terrifying outlook that death is salvation.
However, the intensity of the play is not consistent, partly due to the actors themselves. Matt Ryan, who plays the therapist, doesn’t stand well on his own. Ryan delivers his lines, but it often feels as if he is only half there. Compared to the two women, Ryan isn’t as intense, and his performance seems to pale in comparison.
Ryan also takes long pauses during his interactions with the other actors, which, instead of building up the tension and atmosphere, annoyingly drags the play out, testing the audience’s patience.
Another flaw of the play deals with one of the main actresses. The woman in the bathroom, played by Fesa Salillas, convincingly portrays a woman trying to keep her thoughts under control. Yet, as the play continues on and the character begins to lose control, Salillas’s acting remains the same. Her emotional outbursts do not draw you into her pain.
Instead, it is the other protagonist, played by Kimberly Niccole, who compensates for the lack of intensity.
Niccole is convincing and perhaps the more tragic of the two. The actress is able to slip into the skin of the character, showing the way in which her depression takes control of her physically as well as psychologically.
It’s the little things Niccole does that makes you feel for her: the shaking of her whole body, the tears that she tries to keep in and the way she moves as if life is too exhausting.
The play’s beginning is slow and it takes a moment before you can be fully immersed in the story. Once the story unfolds, however, you are sucked into watching the destruction of the two protagonists.
At the end of the play, you can’t help but wonder exactly how to save some people from their own worst enemy: themselves.
E-mail Ta at jta@media.ucla.edu.