Miss Sarah

A smart production will try to stage a work that compliments the venue it has at its disposal. A brave production, on the other hand, will attempt to transcend its surroundings. Miss Sarah is the latter, and its courage pays off. Playing to claustrophobic darkness, the play summons the merciless Australian outback and the empty open highway with little but imagination, conviction and some carefully-chosen, atmospheric technical effects.

Seventeen-year-old Mel, armed with nothing but a backpack and a pair of fairy wings, has run away to find her missing best friend Sarah. A trucker stops to pick her up, and, against her better judgement, she accepts his offer. The pair's prickly relationship forms the narrative's quietly gripping backbone, as their mundane banter gradually reveals their respective personal truths.

The play is at its soapiest when dwelling on the bickering between Mel's widowed father and her embittered aunt/guardian, as the search for Mel escalates and the recriminations become aggressive. Their backstory is relevant to Mel's escape, but after a while, it feels as if the pair are simply repeating variations on a theme.

Without giving away the true nature of the trucker, Miss Sarah pulls off the difficult trick of eliciting sympathy—justified or otherwise—for an unsympathetic character, right before delving into some unreservedly dark territory. The play is also gifted with that rare thing, a compelling and realistic adolescent protagonist: Mel is resolute, naive, nervous, brave, funny and ultimately tragic. Miss Sarah deserves applause for this story alone.