Sorry We Didn’t Die at Sea – the title suggests an evening of raw emotion hearing about the stories of vulnerable migrants with one common goal – fleeing the desperate conditions of their country in pursuit of safety. Emanuele Aldrovandi’s script, however, challenges these perceptions from the get-go.
Sorry We Didn’t Die at Sea opens with the three main characters negotiating with the owner of a shipping container for a spot on said container that will take them to a “secret” destination. The names of the characters about to embark upon this journey are never revealed. Instead, the programme refers to them as ‘the stocky one’ (played by Marco Young), a white-collar worker who has made billions from the corporate world and must now resort to murder for money, ‘the beautiful one,’ (played by Yasmine Haller) who has lost everything dear to her except her hope and faith, and ‘the tall one,’ (played by Will Bishop) who has multiple qualifications but is completely out of touch with reality. The characters seemingly have a choice of how to equip themselves; ‘the stocky one’ has brought a knife, ‘the beautiful one’ has brought a hairbrush and ‘the tall one’ has brought a suitcase full of neatly folded Egyptian cotton shirts.
Sorry We Didn’t Die at Sea is a roller coaster of emotions with the audience not quite knowing how to react. As the characters are loaded onto the container, the spectators find themselves at the edge of their seat fully cognisant about how violent, grotesque and perilous this journey will be. And, just at that moment, the intensity is broken up by an almost cabaret like performance by the owner of the container, ‘the burly one’. The lights dim and against the backdrop of a red curtain, ‘the burly one’ takes a microphone, walks centre stage, and meticulously talks through a recipe for Guanciale. The audience is left somewhat confused but later learns that ‘the burly one’ (played by Felix Garcia Guyer) has made many such journeys over the decades and, in an attempt to maintain his sanity, he has started talking to himself about any facts read on Wikipedia. It is difficult to reconcile these monologues with the broader script; perhaps this is a ploy used by director Daniel Emery to demonstrate how such journeys can often blur the lines between the reality inside the container and the fiction outside of it.
As the journey progresses, the container becomes stranded from the rest of the ship. Faced with extreme circumstances, the cast find themselves questioning the importance of surviving when they have nothing left. And yet, they continue to drink ‘piss and blood’ to keep themselves alive demonstrating the animal instinct within us all.
Sorry We Didn’t Die at Sea offers a different perspective on a bleak and desperate topic complete with morbid humour, extreme violence, strobe lighting and even synchronised dancing. The staging is very effective. The dark lighting and minimalist setting capture the sinisterness of the situation, but the characters and dialogue are often so exaggerated, the audience is left unnerved, not quite knowing whether to empathise with the characters or to laugh at their expense – a true black comedy.
Sorry We Didn’t Die at Sea is at Park Theatre until 30th September
