TWINE by Selina Thompson is a play about adoption’s knotty legacy. Overwhelmed by pain, grief and a myriad of unanswered questions about her family history, Sycamore – an adoptee defined by her lovesick state – has split in three. These fractured parts of her psyche are Seed, an impish shape-shifter and compulsive storyteller; Sapling, an emotionally fragile teenager, adept at compartmentalising suffering; and Bark, the thick skin that dares to ask difficult questions about the past. This trio are quite literally lost in the woods, in search of love to make them whole.
Central to the play is Seed, who is frequently possessed by the ghosts of Sycamore’s beloveds, which are raised so they can finally be understood. Embodying long-lost brothers and gaslighting social workers, Nandi Bhebhe steals the show, revealing her impressive ability to move between different parts and winning laughs from the audience with her puckish exuberance. Angelina Chudi (Sapling) and Muki Zubis (Bark) also display fine acting, shining especially in the paternal possession scene which is cleverly overlaid with the audios of Sycamore’s Brummy dad and Rastafarian father. Their subtle responses are completely synchronised with the voiceovers, balancing light humour and gothic haunting. Jennifer Tang, TWINE’s director, excels in the staging of these conversations with lost loved ones, which are perhaps so poignant because they are only possible within the imaginative space of the theatre.
Most surprisingly, the production is full of musical numbers. As bloodied eggs crack and allegations of infanticide emerge (TWINE has Medea moments), the songs, whilst thoroughly enjoyable, could risk seeming irreverent. But this is to misjudge their effect, for they are sedulously placed to underscore gradual connection – entwinement even – between the disparate parts of Sycamore. Together the trio sing a harmonised refrain to the audience, reminding us of their purpose: ‘We came here to talk about love.’
The production is brought vividly to life by Naomi Kuyck-Cohen’s surrealistic woodland set. Hackney melts away upon entering the womb-like performance space, where ghostly white gauze is draped over the set before the show begins, a nod to all the spectres that will be raised and all the secrets that have been too long shrouded (or repressed). This is later pulled back to reveal three sculptural trees, including one rather humorously made out of the contents of a social worker’s filing cabinet. These are trees of knowledge, promising Seed, Sapling, and Bark a way back to their roots.
As ever, Selina Thompson’s poetic symbolism and lyrical language drive the play to stunning effect. While audience members may end up entangled in some of the abstract metaphors, or miss the allusions to the critical texts, such as Jacqueline Rose’s Mothers or bell hooks’ all about love, it is impossible to overlook the unabashed critique of the State, which is condemned for failing to follow proper protocol and reaping the rewards of adoption (to the tune of £1,000 per week for each child, as Bark exposes).
At the heart of TWINE is family, both as a concept and as a lived experience – a source of strength and pain, infinite mysteries and heart-breaking revelations. Take an axe to it, Thompson suggests, it’s time we imagined it anew.
Drama
By Selina Thompson
Director: Jennifer Tang
Photo credits: Manuel Harlan
Cast includes: Angelina Chudi; Nandi Bhebhe; Muki Zubis
Until: Saturday 21st September 2024
Running Time: 2 hours and 10 minutes, including a 20-minute interval