Stitching – Little Spoon Theatre Company

Overview

Written by Scottish playwright Anthony Neilson, a proponent of the rough and ready ‘in-yer-face’ theatre of the 1990s, Stitching is the tale of a paralytic relationship that is wedged somewhere between love and bitterness.

Co-founders of Little Spoon Theatre Company Lara Lightfoot and Wade Doolan play Abby and Stuart. Struck by an unplanned pregnancy, the couple debate whether or not to procure an abortion. As circular conversation and vindictive blame games ensue, the messy threads of their relationship appear.

Throughout the play, it seems depraved sexual fantasies spark and rekindle their lust for one another. In fact, Nielson crams in an almost unfathomable array of taboos, from Auschwitz to the Moors Murders to genital mutilation. It’s a lot of weight to throw around. It seems the playwright is retracing Edward Albee's footsteps, navigating through the tatters of an irreparable relationship and the grief of a lost child, though peppering his path with more grit and masochism.

Doolan and Lightfoot tackle the material with admirable gusto. Lightfoot is particularly assured in her stubborn and stony portrayal of the enigmatic Abby. There are humorous moments, such as the scene in which the couple pass a notepad back and forth, scrawling increasingly indignant messages. This absence of verbal dialogue means the narrative unfolds through their reactions alone.

At the same time, a parallel couple get darker and dirtier. As they both wade through infidelities and psychosexual oddities, the toxicity of the relationship becomes more visible, whilst the thin thread that binds them together becomes less visible. This analogy of stitching (or unstitching) becomes a macabre reality by the end of the play.

All in all, there doesn't seem to be quite enough glimmers of genuine love or tenderness to counterbalance the masochistic exploits. At times, it seems these perversities are slightly pointless, repelling rather than facilitating access to the characters' motives. Call me a 'coward', as Nielson would say, but for me there wasn't enough reward to justify being hauled through a smorgasbord of debauchery.