THEATRE REVIEW - The Second Rule

An introverted university professor unwittingly finds himself involved with a troubled school girl in Patterson and Pearce's tense domestic thriller.

By Matt Hutchinson

Ed Elgood gives a brave performance as the selfish and increasingly obsessive academic Dan. Although at times the uneasy switch from coy introvert to swearing, brooding predator prevents him from staying just this side of believability, Elgood does well to inhabit a character who the audience are sympathetic  towards and yet greatly suspicious of. Similarly, as the sexually-abused Anna, Lucy Telleck is endearing whilst also giving Anna a boldness that causes us to question her innocent intentions towards Dan, Patterson’s script admirably having steered clear of adhering to the typical ‘victim’ type.

Elsewhere there is not a single weak link in the cast. As Anna’s abusive father, Ed Smith gives the production its most memorable performance. Gently spoken and smartly dressed, he is toe-curlingly sinister in his politeness towards Dan, simultaneously defying expectations of ‘the abusive father’ and proving that the raised voices and arbitrary swearing that the two leads tend to rely on aren’t necessarily the way to deliver a paralysing blow to the audience’s emotional organs.

In their blending of historical detail and poignant first person testimonies, ‘The History’ monologues exhibit some of Patterson’s best writing. Although bearing only a tenuous link to the play as a whole (via the theme of child exploitation), they are utterly engaging in themselves thanks to Gina Ruysen’s and Tom Black’s various portrayals. From the detached human experimenter to the drugged and vulnerable teen, their acute judgements of voice and mannerism are perfe

As Helene, Dan’s university colleague and sultry French femme of seduction, Francesca Knight does well do bring integrity to a well-worn stereotype, and although Joe Sowerbutts’ horny Christophe never has the chance to develop beyond the role of providing (rather irritating and unnecessary) comic relief, he does manage to raise a smile from the audience in an otherwise depressing play. In Professor Dawson, Patterson gives Jimmy Walters an intriguing part that is never really afforded the room to develop (something that can be said for some of the play’s other peripheral characters). Nevertheless, Walters’ understated and melancholic performance hints intriguingly at Dawson’s own loss and regret.

In The Second Rule it is not in the university but in the home that the real drama takes place. Lucy Goss is beautiful and touching as Dan’s long-suffering wife, while the scene in which Dan reluctantly meets the latest boyfriend of his daughter Hannah (a playful turn by Helen Kennedy) is a recognisable and mundane domestic situation that so suddenly cracks wide open with significance. The barely noticeable and uncanny switching of Kennedy for Telleck (Anna) is a profound and breathtaking introduction into the mounting effects of Dan’s relationship with Anna on his psyche. This doubling is a sure highlight of the excellent direction seen from Pearce throughout.

At times, however, the direction does become a little overwrought. For example, it’s easy to feel manipulated – as opposed to genuinely affected – by the overlapping of dreamy dialogue against a soundtrack of the malfunctioning child welfare video and gathering music. By the time Anna herself, back from the grave, walks onto the stage to rest a hand on Dan’s naked, sobbing frame, there is a feeling of being overwhelmed not by sympathy but by the sheer insistence that we will be left with a lump in our throat at this tragic ending. As such, it amounts to little more than a rather anticlimactic ‘crescendo’.

But together, Patterson and Pearce, along with Georgia Sharp on production, have come up with a premise that commands the audience’s attention. Right from the opening scene – where (admittedly rather laboured) small-talk introduces us to two recognisable characters (that of the emotionally-stifled academic, and the disarmingly confident, smoking teen) who really don’t require much introduction – the scene’s abrupt ending with the first of many of the play’s many twists sets the precedent for Patterson’s turbulent and tense narrative.

The Second Rule, then, is a play in which the merit is not so much in the story itself but in the dramatic execution of that story. Making use of so many recognisable types, Patterson’s play perhaps could have been more lean and concise, but as a team Patterson, Pearce and Sharp have conceived and realised a bold piece of theatre.

 4/5 stars.