Beachy Head Theatre Review

7th March,
Weston Studio, WMC

In death are we little more than a statistic? Or is there more to it than one death for every half a second? With a production that resonates with the soul Beachy Head sets out to cleverly bring the individual and emotions out from behind closed doors and off the sheet of paper that tells us that 1 in 9000 deaths are suicides. Beachy Head addresses one man’s suicide and the ripples that the action causes and the extraordinary circumstances of a suicide being caught on camera than the death itself.

With no sign, no warning it has been a month since Stephen jumped and his wife Amy is picking up the pieces, trying to understand why and struggling with the box that Stephen’s life has been reduced to. Filmmaker’s Matt and Joe on the other hand struggle with the morality of the 8 seconds of film capturing Stephen’s last moments, after all what do you do with footage like that? Delete it, or is that disrespectful? Use it and build a film around it? In Dr Rachel Sampson’s world it is clinical, scientific and removed. Her role brings the emotions and confusions back to earth but without the cold hard slap, it creates a balance that allows us to see the facts behind suicide that no one thinks about.

The use of the multimedia is cleverly played out, weaving theatrical and filmic techniques that produce a film within a play, a reverse of what film has done before. As the filmmakers build their documentary the story plays out and character monologues become talking heads and the audience is brought in to represent the masses. Very little is pre-recorded; all the ‘hand held’ camera work is fed through a live studio feed onto the screen. The use of the eerie musical sound-track sound track and visions of the cliffs brings a realistic outdoors into the artificial inside space.

Steven’s character is never fully explained: “He didn’t share what was in his head” (Amy) and his often silent, fleeting presence on the stage deepens the mystery. Concluding that you never really know why he jumps, down to his removal of his shoes.  The script plays carefully not to focus too much on why he did it, focusing on depression as an all out answer can be clichéd, his cliff top phone call is simple and powerful. Even Steven cannot explain himself: “I just have bad days”. As Amy summons the courage to de-box Steven’s possessions she discovers his last notebook, a story about a boy who cannot stand all the light surrounding him. The plot creates juxtaposition between the boy and Steven – asking the question are they the same person?  Steven’s ghostly presence acts out the story as Amy reads, his own voice blending with hers at certain points, making it clear that it is significant.  The beautiful scene at the end of Amy throwing the pages off the cliff is theatrical and poignant, freeing her emotions and Steven’s soul.

Handling such a sensitive subject is difficult; especially one that has been in and out of the news in recent years. In response the research ploughed into Beachy Head by Analogue is clearly evident, even in the smallest of details. The production artfully weaves around the emotions and facts brought about by suicide, analysing them with great sensitivity and care and with the utmost creativity. I almost don’t want to pick, but there is a piece at the end where Steven’s jump is re-enacted as Amy watches the 8 second clip, whilst very emotive and artfully done it feels a little strange, as if the act itself is out of place amongst the emotion and cold hard facts. The audience and Amy have only just begun to recognise the multiple reasons to why he could have done it and understand it cannot truly be explained, I am still unsure how I felt about it.

Analogue are touring Beachy Head around the UK until the end of March.