St Andrews Radio

Goodness me, where should I start? Brain (and keyboard), lead me not into temptation: over-thinking the beautiful simplicity of Keith Bunin’s play in a frantic search for archetypes and symbols, only to lose sight of its inspiring message – ‘We are all of us meant to become heroes’. And it is quite a heroic journey of production to embark upon: casting eight actors to play over fifty characters, while the Barron’s stage magically morphed from ship to Tropical Island, and even to a wasteland of tundra. Director Andrew Illsley and producer Cole Matson dared to dream big and boldly tackle the impossible in a visionary way. The result? A two-hour epically choreographed saga about a man’s ceaseless search for home.

We are told the enchanted tale of Adam (wholeheartedly played by Nathan Elias), a troubled castaway who is rescued by sheer chance (and a crew of sailors) and starts fancying himself the lost prince of mythical Gildoray. Thus, his courageous quest to find his homeland and claim his wayward kingdom commences, and it is paved with obstacles at every step: pirates, gryphons, storms and curses. As Gildoray dangerously transforms itself into a haunted El Dorado, one is left to wonder whether the obsessive pursuit of happiness values its weight in gold. Adam slowly becomes a stereotypical Aristotelian tragic hero, suffering the consequences of his own selfish actions: shunning his one true love and abandoning his children, all in a crazed crusade to redeem his birthplace. The abundance of words derived from Greek roots (the chimerical kingdoms of Amaranthia – ‘amaranthine’ meaing ‘immortal’ – and Cyrillia – ‘Cyril’ being commonly associated with ‘lodrly’) provides ample food for thought and allows every viewer to explore the play’s intricate labyrinth of symbols at whatever depth he may feel comfortable: he can dwell on them, profoundly analysing each and every philosophical facet they provide, or he can ignore them as simple titles.

As aforementioned, the production is as impressive as it is flawless. The lighting, costumes and set design genuinely complement the actors’ performance. From blood-thirsty gryphons to cruel sultans and exotic princesses, the play had it all, complexly woven into a formidable pattern, only to convey the amplitude of Adam’s relentless travels. Majestic acts of kindness also adorn the hero’s pilgrimage, and even though he pays a hefty toll for his visit to Vanity Fair, the play’s conclusion suggests that home is nothing more than the boundless love and forgiveness.

So can devotion quench a disastrous war? Can a kingdom fuelled by compassion survive for only one day, proving that happiness is only an evanescent illusion? Can a pauper of a castaway really be a prince? Can we forgive those who wrong us? This theatrical piece raises a myriad of questions about human nature, lofty ideals and questionable morals, which are to be pondered by the viewer in his own time. But there is one fact unmistakably floating in a sea of speculation: happiness is worth pursuing the world over.