Painkillers

Painkillers is one of those surprising Fringe shows that moves – in the space of fifteen minutes – from rather boring to completely enthralling. As it reaches the half-way mark, the attention of the audience begins to ebb, but as the play poses the question: "what is the nature of truth?" it captivates the viewers who fully engage with the performance to the end.

Set in the solitary prison cell of Angela, sent down for murder, we are shown a number of interviews held between her and aspiring writer Nadia, who is researching a book on what drives women to kill. As the interviews progress, however, both characters reveal themselves to be something other than their demeanour suggests.

Paul Buie’s script manages to incorporate the difficult themes of violence and sexual abuse into the narrative with admirable sensitivity, never forcing them too crudely upon the audience, but leaving their presence lurking constantly. This harrowing subject matter is balanced finely by a sharp and incisive wit, endearing you to two characters that are in many respects unlovable.

The performances of both Laura Ford (Angela) and Amanda Beethan-Wallace (Nadia) command the otherwise minimal set of a prison cell. The clever use of grainy images projected onto the prison wall manages to hauntingly convey the past life of Amanda, whilst the use of recorded voice leads us to question that which is actually spoken by the characters themselves.

This is a play that offers few answers but instead revels in exposing disturbing but equally intriguing questions of truth and motives. Interviewee frequently becomes interviewer as both vulnerability and vindictiveness is exposed on both sides. Painkillers is a clever and moving exposition of hurt, motives and selfishness, that suggests multiple possibilities for the audience to consider.