Keepers is a rare treasure, a show with grace and elegance in every action. A simple, stripped-down piece of physical theatre about the bond between a pair of lighthouse keepers in a storm, the cast of two endear themselves to the audience immediately with moments of excellent physical comedy on the sparse set.
A rhyming, alliterative script blends perfectly with the live music and sound effects that accompany every action. The timing is so perfect as to suggest a symbiotic link between musician and actor. Throughout, repetition of actions and elements from the keepers’ routine, with their struggle to keep their (literal) light burning, allows later images to feed off earlier emotions, forming a skilfully woven patchwork. Shows this beautifully executed are often called "polished", a word which simply doesn’t fit here: it feels lovingly carved, shaped and moulded, and the result is a thing of beauty.
This approach works particularly well after the characters’ relationship comes under stress and forces them to confront pain, isolation and loss – all handled with delicate poignancy. Despite the dark subject matter, the elegance of the characters’ movements and language remains, creating a touching portrait of the beauty to be found in anguish.
Even though Keepers is a short piece, some moments of slight sag do occasionally creep in, leaving the finished piece just shy of perfect. Nevertheless, this is an exceptionally tender and nuanced portrait of friendship in adversity. It holds the audience rapt.