In its world premiere, The Construct, a new work by No Strings Attached Theatre of Disability, is not merely theatre; it’s a raw, poetic confrontation with mental illness and identity, delivered through an unflinching and immersive performance that lingers long after the lights go down.
Written by JW Smith and directed by Catherine Purling, The Construct is a bold and deeply personal piece that dares to illuminate the often-stigmatized experience of psychosis. The play invites the audience into a shadowy world that blurs the line between prison, asylum, and purgatory, a single-room setting that becomes the landscape of protagonist Hope’s internal struggle.
The set is sparse yet symbolically loaded: a salt lamp glows gently on a desk, a large clock looms, chalk-scrawled walls whisper clues, and a locked door stands ominously in the corner of room. As the lighting dims and a haunting noise is heard, the illusion of time begins to unravel. A travelling dark-blue light across the window offers the sense of time passing, or perhaps stalling, reinforcing the theme of a reality built not on logic but on perception.
At the heart of the production is a tour-de-force performance by Fig Henry Kershaw as Hope. In this demanding solo role, Kershaw delivers a performance that is as vulnerable as it is commanding. They bring depth and nuance to Hope’s descent and resistance, using nothing more than their body, eyes, and voice to wrestle with the demon within, a literal and metaphorical embodiment of mental illness.
Hope’s journey through the six “sectors” of The Construct is both allegorical and almost interactive. Each sector presents riddles and trials that evoke a surreal escape room feel, engaging the audience in Hope’s quest for freedom and reunion with her lost love, Charity. The structure of the play is reminiscent of Kafka’s claustrophobic logic, the dreamlike tension of Murakami, and the psychological layering of A Beautiful Mind, yet it maintains a distinct voice and integrity of its own.
Technically, the production is a masterclass in minimalist storytelling. Nic Mollison’s lighting design is critical at times a silent character in its own right. The salt lamp, Hope’s spiritual guardian pulses gently, guiding Hope. A flickering UV light heralds the arrival of Hope’s demon, and her looming shadow projected on the wall becomes a chilling visual motif. Sound design, too, is effectively eerie and unsettling, always in sync with the emotional rhythm of the performance.
The set, co-designed by Casey Van Sebille and Stewart Boag, is simple but profoundly expressive, grounding the play in a space that is both physical and psychological. Every object, from the desk, to the clock, to the small locked box, feels loaded with meaning. Pedro Fiuza’s music underscores the tension, memory, and fleeting hope that run through the show.
Director Catherine Purling’s touch is evident in the pacing and intimacy of the performance. The audience is held in quiet tension, constantly questioning what is real and what is illusion. Her direction is subtle but precise, ensuring that no moment overstays its welcome, a vital choice in a one-person, 75-minute production.
JW Smith’s writing is daring and layered. As the playwright says, “If my work can cause you to float for just a moment on some new sea of imagining… I am content.” By that measure, The Construct succeeds. This play does more than just represent, it reveals, disrupts, and demands empathy. It is a timely intervention in the national conversation about mental health, and it’s one that deserves attention.
The Construct is more than a play, it’s a haunting, immersive experience that dares to speak the unspeakable. With a stunning central performance, atmospheric design, and potent direction, it is theatre with a pulse and purpose. Unsettling, brave, and beautifully executed.
