Review: The Great Privation (Theatre503)

Review by Sandy Swain

⭐️⭐️⭐️

Often, people will inherit the pain and struggles of those who came before them, creating new struggles but also unearthing new strengths. With the play exploring what it means to live with the legacy of your ancestors' trauma, I expected a heavy show, and while The Great Privation (How to flip ten cents into a dollar) is appropriately harrowing, it is unexpectedly heartwarming—with a mother-daughter story at its heart.

 The Great Privation (How to flip ten cents into a dollar), Nia Akilah Robinson’s debut play, just premiered at Theatre503 after being a finalist in the venue’s International Playwriting Award last year. Brought to life by director Kalungi Ssebandeke and a four-person cast, the show is an intimate story of mothers and daughters. Christie Fewry and Sydney Sainté appear as Charity and Mother, in both the modern day and in 1832, with the 1832 pair tasked with protecting Charity’s father from graverobbing while their modern-day descendants run a summer camp just off the same graveyard.

The story was compelling, though some details such as family trees got lost between the timelines for me. As a white reviewer, it is not for me to say if this play is a good representation of systemic racism, but I can say that I learned a lot from it. The tension between Janitor and Mother, as she confronts him for being a Black man helping disgrace a Black body, was an interesting interrogation and something I have not seen represented a lot before. Robinson does a good job emphasising the brutality of grave robbing, the scene with 1832 John is particularly harrowing in its rawness and has stayed with me since.

The definite highlights of the play were Fewry and Sainté as Charity and Mother. Immediately, you’re drawn into these characters and their bond. The opening immediately infuses them with the charisma and agency we see ripple throughout their modern-day counterparts. Surprisingly, 1832 Charity and Mother feel immediately relatable, bickering over money and parties, as do the modern-day duo, arguing over TikTok. A lot of shows can give off a ‘how do you do, fellow kids?’ vibe when speaking about social media (it’s my pet peeve) and so I prepared myself to cringe as soon as I heard phones mentioned. But Mother’s order not to “re-TikTok” any videos and Charity’s accusation of gaslighting feel natural to their dynamic and garnered large laughs from the audience.

Another standout was Jack Gouldbourne as John, easily switching between threatening graverobber in the 1832 timeline and over-the-top sardonic camp counsellor in the modern-day. While some of the supernatural elements didn’t work for me, as I’ll explain later, John’s creepy supernatural aura as the graverobber was compelling. As soon as we see him enter, washed in red lighting, he haunts Charity and Mother. The set design from Ruth Badila works wonders in furthering this, and on a set with doors and cupboards everywhere, you’re never sure where the graverobber will come from. The coffin in the middle haunts the narrative throughout. A moment that stood out to me was when Charity and Mother sweep up the dirt overturned in 1832, really solidifying the idea that these timelines intersect, and that the trauma inflicted on their ancestors ripples through to the modern day.

My only real issue with the show was that, although it seemed to be about how these timelines affect one another simultaneously, this production makes these timelines distinct. This made costume changes confusing, as these happen regularly throughout the show to signal timeline shifts, but sometimes the timelines overlap and the characters are still in one time period’s clothing. It made it difficult for me to understand what was supposed to be overlapping and what wasn’t. But this is eased by the distinct dialogue style and body language for each Charity and Mother— again, props to Fewry and Sainté.

I think a clearer decision could be made about the story’s world in general. Particularly during possession scenes, I was unsure if the 1832 characters were able to interact with their modern-day counterparts or if this was symbolic. I preferred them as symbolic manifestations of guilt and legacy. It felt like a stronger way of tackling the theme, to me, than having it be a literal possession.

This unclear story-world is mostly contained to these moments, though I think it still affects smaller moments too. For example, Romeo Mika does a great job playing both Cuffee and Janitor, (the strict but loveable camp counsellor and John’s conflicted henchman) but, unlike the other actors, Mika also plays two one-off characters, which muddles the already-established technique of doubling as a way to show ancestry. Keeping this artistic vision clear would solidify Cuffee and his counterpart more, allowing Mika to do more with the role.

Overall, The Great Privation (How to flip ten cents into a dollar) is a great investigation into the legacy and manifestations of racism in the present day. While the indecisive world-building didn’t work for me, I still enjoyed the character relationships. After all, the best parts of this play are the tender moments of a mother and daughter amidst the horrors. With the world as it is, I think that defiant joy is always needed.

The Great Privation (How to flip ten cents into a dollar) is currently playing at Theatre503 until 1 June 2024. Tickets from https://theatre503.com/whats-on/the-great-privation/

Photos by Sami Sumaria