I’m standing in the dark, outside Café Kooks.
It’s intermission of Grace Malouf’s play First Do No Harm and I’m thinking I’ve just witnessed an absolutely brilliant first act.
Directed by Charley Allanah and Malouf, the performances are magnificent; nuanced and genuine. Kate Bookallil, Richard Hilliar, Josh Merten, Shan-Ree Tan and Barry French are a dream ensemble.
And the script is superb.
I’d give my right arm to have written that first act.
But that’s an old-fashioned expression.
The world moves on.
And it’s the examination of this phenomenon of change which makes Malouf’s play so exciting.
It centres on the ethics of a surgical procedure for Alexei, a young Olympic hopeful (played by Merten with utter believability.)
We witness a hilarious and provocative discussion between two medical experts (Bookallil & Tan) asking whether their profession leads ethical change or if they simply follow society?
The tacit assumption is that ethics do, indeed, develop.
It’s a phenomenon exemplified over the last 60 years, as the rights of previously marginalised groups have been increasingly acknowledged. But only Innocence will assume that change in societal values is always for the better. In the same six decades, I’ve seen the 1960’s and 70’s dream of social equality sidelined by the 80’s fixation on gaudy, material success. And more recently – and with horror – I’ve witnessed the valorisation of anger, coupled with the deeply unhelpful assertion that rage alone signifies a genuine commitment to justice.
It could all leave you with the soul-disturbing sense that our ethical values are merely arbitrary, like fashion. And, seriously, who can care that much about fashion?
Alexei succinctly expresses the issue of arbitrariness, bitterly complaining that a perception is dismissed as a delusion when held by only a few people but, when held by everyone, is readily embraced as reality.
I think it’s because the play approaches this frightening aspect of our ethical lives so entertainingly, so boldly, that I fell in love with its first act.
It’s a hard act to follow.
Perhaps a falling off is inevitable, if you value the first act as I do: as an extraordinarily powerful representation of one of the great tensions running through the human experience. We want to live for our morals – not by them, but for them – yet one of those moral values – our dedication to Truth – threatens to strip us of the certainty that helps us to live for any of them. For a serious person, that’s a frightening tension to confront. (But more on that later.)
So, the second act. It has one scene that seems unstageable. It also privileges shouting and anger. Perhaps a richer choice might have been to present a little more honest bewilderment.
Having set up the ethical issue – can Alexei have a particular body modifying surgery? – the playwright seems understandably reluctant to give a simplistic answer. Instead focus moves to other ethical decisions made by the surrounding characters. It feels somewhat diluting (akin to adding scenes to Macbeth in which Macduff and Lady Macduff argue about who has dedicated more time to the rearing of their children.)
But, I acknowledge that what I’m calling dilution (admittedly, in this case, dilution with acid) is actually the creation of multiple complex characters – and that too reflects crucial aspects of our ethical experience.
Firstly, few moral decisions are made in social isolation; our decisions impact others, and will be judged by others.
And Secondly, every individual’s moral life is of equal importance (regardless of passing fashions.)
And Thirdly, that frightening tension I refer to above can probably only be faced by embracing a compassionate humility – and, in terms of drama, that required courage and openness is perhaps best epitomised in the creation of such fully fleshed-out characters as this production offers.
First Do No Harm is thrilling, vital theatre.
Paul Gilchrist
First Do No Harm by Grace Malouf
Presented by NIDA in association with bAKEHOUSE theatre and Talia M-K
At KXT on Broadway until July 4
Image by Laura Elaine
Theatre Red 