In ‘How Love is Spelt’ the central character, Peta, carries
her building materials in from the outside world. Scene by scene she adopts attitudes
and value systems as easily as the cardigan left by one of the strangers she
invites to her bedsit. Then, when Colin – the lover she has run to the city to
escape – finally arrives to take her home, she describes her discovery of a strange,
almost fantastical, building near Crystal Palace. But attempting to locate it for
a second time - with the hope of being able to tell Colin about it - she finds
it has been completely demolished. Acts of construction and de-construction
frame the play.
On the other hand, ‘Eigengrau’ is fascinating in the way it
deals with the idea of ‘contingency’ in the city. Characters meet by accident
and make fast, almost arbitrary, commitments to living spaces, friendships and
ideologies. At the same time, a chorus of ‘voices’ manifests the city in broken
extracts from Gumtree adverts. There is a sense that settled relationships are impossible
– or, at least, under permanent existential threat - in an environment where
movement, speed, conflict and coincidence are essential qualities. (‘Closer’ by
Patrick Marber is probably the most famous play of recent years to explore this
territory. Here, characters are pulled together momentarily by the ethereal
figure of Alice, a binding agent or catalyst, whose reality is finally questioned
by the play's mysterious resolution.) At the end of ‘Eigengrau’ two of the characters,
Tim and Rose, form an ambiguous alliance – a happy ending, of sorts.
But having created such a unit, it’s as if the metaphysics of the city can no
longer accommodate them. They leave to live in Eastbourne.
By way of contrast, over the weekend I watched ‘The
Village at the End of the World’, a documentary about a community of 59 people living
in a remote corner of North East Greenland. One of the central characters is a
teenager called Lars, whose aspirations and worldview are at odds with the ways
of life surrounding him. Finally he leaves his home for one of the larger towns
further south. This film seemed to re-enforce a key distinction between urban
and non-urban stories. In the former, characters must confront contingency and continual
restlessness. Peace can only be found beyond the city’s limits. In the latter,
the act of leaving dramatises a contrasting desire for rebirth, free expression and change.
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