Scott Price, Simon Laherty and Sarah Mainwaring in “The Shadow Whose Prey the Hunter Becomes”, Photo by Kira Kynd
Though I’m irritated by the clunky title, promising some meaning if you can just force your brain through its uncomfortably meandering image, The Shadow Whose Prey the Hunter Becomes demands the same sort of deliberate concentration. This quality—the insistence that you examine your own awareness, faculties and comprehension—is its principal achievement. Presented by Canadian Stage, this Back to Back Theatre production from Australia, written and performed by neuro-divergent actors, probes conventional theatrical form and the notion of what constitutes “normal” experience.
On the page, just like the title, this sounds like a strain—and it is!, but only until you adapt to the format. From the top, this feels like a communal routine. Scott Price and Sarah Mainwaring wheel out a set of five chairs, which they arrange in a line. Afterwards, they place down some tape—a marker? a barrier?—between the chairs and the audience. All of this takes some time as their movements and conversation are slow. Their discussion fixates on sexual harassment, a disconcerting blend of scholastic “Stranger Danger” talking points and corporate HR guidelines.
Once Simon Laherty appears on the scene, the formal meeting starts to take some shape, but there are hiccups. We hover precariously between a fictional town hall meeting that Simon, Scott and Sarah are attending and the theatrical event it actually is. The audience is acknowledged rather directly and sometimes prompted to respond, but as we settle into the reality and purpose of our time together, we start to realize the experience is, essentially, us grappling with our place in society—as physical and intellectual beings.
As the three negotiate their fears, needs and conflicting expectations, a voice recognition transcript of their spoken dialogue is projected as surtitles above them. Amusingly, there are moments when it misunderstands them before glitching red and landing on a correction. Hearing, comprehension and interpretation are a constant process. The potential for misconception and conflict are ever-present, but so too are the possibilities for insight, revelation and connection.
As they begin to interact directly with the AI character providing the captions (voiced by Belinda McClory), it becomes a fourth character in this theatrical space. The discussion lands on the increasing integration of AI into our lives and how its advanced capabilities—its speed, vast access to information and the tools of our daily living—may see supposed able-bodied people falling behind, loosing ground, feeling… disabled. The production, which grounds itself in the functional needs of the performers, levels the playing field. It asks us to scrutinize our humanity, to consider how every individual is limited by the specific circumstances of their own body and mind.
Of course, society as a whole is designed for those considered able. As the outward presenting phenomena of disability can be alienating and lead to inaccurate assumptions, the world can be particularly frustrating and cruel to those with advanced needs—developmental or resulting from injury or illness. This is addressed, but almost out of obligation rather than as some crucial insight.
An evocative, well-integrated musical score helps elevate key moments. Most often, it is light-jazz musak that fills the space, but it occasionally becomes an urgent force with a driving momentum contributing greatly to the theatrical, dramatic shape of the show. A massive white block, pushed about and repurposed throughout, is an abstracted and cumbersome monolith of a prop that adds texture—sometimes providing a crude lectern.
This initially stilted production becomes increasingly fascinating as Laherty, Mainwaring and Price invite us into their discussion. We are their guests of honour—pandered to, roasted a little and asked to interrogate our worldview. With their quirks rising to the surface, they vent, bristle and commiserate. For the audience, there is no immediate gratification or understanding; we can only empathize, acclimate and reflect.
The hour runtime is ideal because the experience, as rewarding as you allow it to be, is nevertheless exhausting.
The Shadow Whose Prey the Hunter Becomes
running January 18 to 28, 2024
Berkeley Street Theatre (26 Berkeley Street)
running time: 60 minutes (no intermission)
Scott Price in “The Shadow Whose Prey the Hunter Becomes”, Photo by Kira Kynd