"a hauntingly heartbreaking ode to love and memory"★★★★★
At its core, Splinter by Martha Loader is a sensitive and respectful play about dementia, told through the devastating lifecycle of a relationship as it disintegrates in the imagination. It is a straightforward story told extraordinarily well, and with magnificent nuance.
Jac (Sarah Livingstone / Caroline Rippin) and Maggie (Henri Merriam) are the opposites-attract embodiment of true love: Maggie a carefree feminist activist and Jac, a lovable, cautious Tory, who meet one night when Maggie is “plaque-ing” Jac's house. That is, illegally affixing a makeshift blue plaque dedicated to a suffragette on the front wall.
Beginning with some delicate pre-show scenes hinting at Maggie's later state, we're then hurled headfirst into a stargazing opener where we first learn of Maggie's "sleep-deprived" confusion. The story goes on to be told through a series of flashbacks, forwards, and sides, fragmenting and, indeed, splintering into shards that ingeniously start to blend and crumble as the narrative, and condition, progresses. Watching their relationship unfold, it is both plainly realistic and desperately romantic. There are laugh-out-loud moments that only serve to heighten the achingly sad counterpoints later on in the piece.
Intelligently, Jac is a role shared by two actors, Sarah Livingstone and Caroline Rippin, who in turn play her stunningly at different ages and different stages in their life. They are both utterly convincing as each other, while at the same time delivering their own stellar performances. Together they share in the creation of a rare chemistry between all three actors, the third being Henri Merriam's Maggie, whose carefree charm and increasing anguish is expertly played throughout.
Given that the play features only three actors and three set pieces, it is operatic in its scale, reaching across time and mind in a journey through the entirety of a relationship, ups and downs, warts and all, from middle-aged domestic banalities to first-love passions.
It is elegant in its construction, detail, and direction: the glint of wedding rings as the couple hold hands, the bookcase alluding to a later metaphor about memory, Becca Gibbs's multi-purpose set used in balletic scene transitions; and taken as a whole, it is tightly structured and expertly paced, tonally hitting every note; it's funny, it's sad, it's pacy. Expect to hold back tears.
Credit must also be given to Paul Thompson's sound design, which is eerily beautiful, and Josh Harley's lighting, which is elegant and somehow touching. All of it combines to create something deeply atmospheric in a subtle but impactful way, from cosy suburban pubs to a firework-popping wedding day, bringing you in and exploding you out through time.
All that remains to be said is that this is a hauntingly heartbreaking ode to love and memory, and it will certainly stick in mine for a very long time.
Photographer credit is Charlotte (Bishy Barnabee Photography)
Splinter by Martha Loader
Directed by Amy Wyllie
Produced by Karen Goddard
Presented by Play Nicely Theatre
The Jack Studio Theatre, 28 November – 2 December
Box Office: https://brockleyjack.co.uk/jackstudio-entry/splinter/
Reviewed by Alix Owen