Insomnia Cat Came To Stay

16 May 2013 | 1:37 pm | Izzy Tolhurst

With the closing line, “I must have nothing in common with myself”, the total entrapment and isolation of insomnia is finally and most powerfully branded on the audience.

Insomnia is one hell of a demon to wrangle with. And it's utterly, eternally lonely. At least that's what Insomnia Cat Came To Stay would have you believe, a play that insists we reason with this disease – not mere discomfort – openly and unitedly, and change the “expectation of silence” currently surrounding the condition. The play features performer Joanne Sutton trapped in her bed and engulfed by white sheets and linen; an overall clever staging convention that reminds us of bed as an enticing place of repose, as well as introducing it as one of torture for the protagonist. The backdrop is a wild and jarring array of animations by Thomas Russell, who injects life into the fictional Insomnia Cat, providing him with a face and identity that brilliantly captures his simultaneous appeal and loathsomeness. The songs, too, segment the play and reveal the harsh and stark transition between exhaustion and consciousness, normality and psychosis, and ultimately, between control and submission. At moments there's a desperation for the play to end, no doubt the intention of writer Fleur Kilpatrick, director Danny Delahunty and performer Sutton alike, conveying the bitterness of one scorned by sleep deprivation. With the closing line, “I must have nothing in common with myself”, the total entrapment and isolation of insomnia is finally and most powerfully branded on the audience.

Malthouse Theatre to Saturday 18 May