“The sound design heightens the monologue as Mol proves an adept writer and performer.”
3/5 train carriages
Oliver Mol is almost 30 years old and has published his first book. Life is looking up…until a 10 month long migraine threatens to tear it all apart. Living life on the precipice of ending and beginning, Mol is forced to give up or share the heavy load that has been forced upon him. As is pertinent now more than ever, ten months of excruciating circumstances is enough to change anyone. Part monologue, part poetry, part sound and light show… the digital fringe show has both a gentleness and durability about it.
Mol takes us through his recovery, which eventuates as a story of finding love again with writing.The process doesn’t limit itself to the chronological, and we find ourselves jumping to past and future and back again as the story demands. The seamless transitions feel very natural, and remind me of the narrative web explored in regular conversation. Although there is a distinction here, as Mol gifts us something not often felt in day to day chatter – which is a deep and unrelenting honesty.
Taking autobiography to another level, Mol’s storytelling coaxes us into his memory, making us feel like we’re standing right next to him as it happens. We hold his hand, sit with him, watch him, feel for him. All the while, he’s not asking us to do any of it, just invited us in.
The unassuming set up becomes cinematic with music by Thomas Gray and Liam Ebbs, and visuals by Kat Chellos. The sound design heightens the monologue as Mol proves an adept writer and performer. Despite the stylised audio-visual accompaniment, Mol’s writing asserts itself in authenticity and doesn’t ask us to think or know anything but his own humanity.
Train Lord is available at Melbourne Fringe as a digital show until November 17th.
Felicity Anderson, Theatre Now
