Our Fathers

39658 original

It’s often humbling to consider the importance of your own birth and how it radically reconfigures the lives of your parents. This pensive—even upsetting—thought is akin to the makeup of Babakas’ Our Fathers, which soulfully eulogises both the fractured relationships and powerful bonds that exist between the paternal id and children.

Performers Sofia Paschou, Bert Roman and Mike Tweddle hop between direct address and shadowplay storytelling to demystify their fathers. Paschou struggles with her wayward, bravado papa whose mind is targeted on hedonistic pleasures; Roman is ostracised after entering the stereotype-heavy world of ballet, while Tweddle laments the presence of his father—or lack thereof—at trombone recitals and birthdays. This is bridged with a firm subplot on the pressures of family, as Roman and Tweddle approach gay parenthood while Paschou flirts vicariously with members of the audience.

Told through a mixture of comedic and danced interludes, with Tweddle providing achingly gorgeous brass accompaniment, this is heartfelt and enduring theatre, at times gut-wrenchingly fragile but also stern, carnal and even angry.

Our Fathers is greater than the sum of its parts, but these parts matter, with much ground retraced and repackaged without offering a new theatrical interpretation of parent-child relationships. The expression is there but doesn’t contain a wallop that will knock you off your feet or open your eyes to deeper artistry. The direct address provides welcome relief but abates the lives of these characters: at times profound but somewhat annoyingly trivial at times.