Nurture, Hope Theatre Review
Written by Greta for Theatre and Tonic
Disclaimer: Gifted tickets in exchange for an honest review
Nurture opens with a Young Man outlining the reasons behind his decision to kill a child. This is how we’re introduced to one of this story’s narrators, and arguably the strongest element of the production.
Nurture, written and directed by Jacob Ethan Tanner with assistant direction by Issie Riley, is an ambitious thriller, both for its genre, which is not frequently explored in theatre, and its unarguably dark content, which touches on several complex themes and moral dilemmas.
The Young Man stands out among the characters, delivering both the darkest and the most comedic moments in the show. Sam Stafford navigates this dense role with lightness and gravitas in equal parts, bringing a peculiar mix of earnestness and menace. There’s clearly a lot of thought behind the writing, directing and acting of the Young Man, an arguably uncomfortable and grotesque character who still manages to come across as human.
The nuanced sense of identity that the show gives to the Young Man and, to some extent, the Journalist, is somehow lacking from the Mother, the only character for whom we’re not given an introduction, biography or context. The Mother seems to remain constrained by the function she serves to the other characters’ arcs, a blank canvas upon which they see their own mother - a projection that drives their motivations throughout the play -, but she is not given the same space to explore her inner world and motivations. This oversight is somehow harder to forgive in a play whose centre is exactly the relationship between children and their caregivers, and especially their mothers.
On this note, I keep coming back on the title – Nurture – and the heartbreaking point that the play seems to make about it; the lack of nurture, especially from a primary caregiver, is more hurtful than violence itself. Trauma has the potential to shape us and transform us into new, different versions of ourselves – for better or worse – but the pain caused by someone not caring enough is sneakier, subtler, and more long-lasting than the blows inflicted by someone who doesn’t care at all, and never pretended to.
Exploring interconnected stories of child abuse and adult trauma, Nurture keeps a steady pace thanks to skilfully timed plot twists and revelations. While the directors shine when building moments of psychological tension, some of the fluidity of the story gets lost when events happen off stage; since not enough guidance is offered in those moments by the writing and the directing, the audience is left to fill in the blanks with their best guesses.
If developed appropriately, with a deepening of the character and arc of the Mother, and a more context-conscious signposting, Nurture has the potential to be a knock-out thriller. I look forward to following its future on stage.
★★★.5
