Time flies when you’re enjoying yourself, so the sixty-minute run time of Isabella Waldron’s quietly striking new play, The Watch, seems fleeting. In the intimate, industrial-chic setting of The Glitch, Waterloo’s newest creative hub, this world première is brought to life by a new company making their producing debut.
Waldron, a semi-finalist for both the O’Neill National Playwrights Conference and the Papatango Prize, brings us a beautifully tender two-hander that is a poetic exploration of insomnia, identity, and the fragility of human connection.
On the face of it, The Watch is the unlikely meeting of Hannah, a restless insomniac, and Zoe, a solitary clockmaker. But the inner cogs of this play are more of a queer love story that both exposes prejudices and takes aim at stereotypes.
Ciana Howlin brings a raw, jittery vulnerability to Hannah, her sleeplessness etched into every movement. Opposite, Kate Crisp’s Zoe is a study in stillness and precision, her measured delivery echoing the tick of the timepieces she so lovingly restores. Together, they create a chemistry that is both electric and ephemeral.
Howlin, in particular, also creates a special bond with the audience. This is storytelling at its finest as we are enveloped in Hannah’s world, wishing we could spend hour upon hour in the company of a character that is witty, outwardly confident, and wiser than their years.
Waldron’s script is lyrical for the most part, often blurring the lines between reality and reverie. Dialogue flows like a stream of consciousness, punctuated by moments of startling clarity. Director Merle Wheldon paces the piece beautifully, winding it forward with precision.
Isabella Sarmiento Abadia’s set works well in a relatively small space, with each setting clearly defined, aided by Jack Hathaway’s lighting design, which subtly shifts with both location and the characters’ emotional states, while Yanni Ng’s soundscape lulls the audience into the play’s nocturnal world.
The Watch is not a play of grand gestures or sweeping drama. Instead, it is an exceptional example of what fringe theatre can achieve: a gentle, intelligent meditation on what it means to let someone in, to trust the timing of love, and to find stillness in a world that never stops moving. Funny and contemplative in equal measure, The Watch proves that great theatre isn’t a matter of time served, but timing mastered.
Listings and ticket information can be found here.
