The Year of the Hare

What's heartbreaking about The Year of the Hare is that, beneath its poor creative choices, there is clearly so much potential here.

Loosely based on the novel by Arto Paasilinna, the play tackles a plethora of vast themes: depression, consumerism, environmental destruction and the uncertain relationship between humans and animals. At most, one of these is engaged with, while the rest act as philosophical window dressing.

Intellectual overambitiousness may be forgiven; its painfully awkward theatrical results cannot. Vatanen, a corporate drone pushed to his limit by a meaningless, uninspiring existence, abandons a company retreat and accidentally injures a hare while driving drunk. He and the hare become friends, and embark on a quest to discover a more authentic form of life.

Unfortunately, the promise of the plot is let down by the protagonist. David McKay's performance alternates between gurning, shrieking and whining, and consequently never provokes the thought or emotional investment the play badly needs.

Martin Docherty and Sarah McCardie play every supporting character, with varying levels of success: a Hunter S. Thompson-esque veterinarian summons some laughs, but the rest are mostly products of narrative necessity. Kim Allan, by contrast, brings such quiet mischief, vulnerability and joy to her role as Hare that she seemingly occupies a different, much better play.

Rubbing the audience's faces in what could have been, The Year of the Hare culminates with a piece of beautifully realised pre-filmed footage; for a few minutes, an understated, melancholy sense of fantasy is finally achieved. A pity then, that it was otherwise so completely absent.