“Most happy people are people who don’t ask enough questions.”
Switzerland, by Joanna Murray-Smith, is a play centred around a woman determined to be a self-centred recluse in her final days on earth. She also happens to be a bestselling crime writer.
US novelist Patricia Highsmith is a real person but Switzerland isn’t based in reality. It’s a smart, psychologically thrilling interpretation of her life, intertwined with the world she created in her well-known series about the talented Tom Ripley.
The whole performance takes place in a single stage set, the lounge of Highsmith’s Swiss home, and there are very few costume changes. The focus is instead the dialogue between the only two characters, Highsmith and Edward Ridgeway.
Ridgeway arrives at Highsmith’s abode as a messenger from her publisher. It’s time to sign a contract and write another Tom Ripley novel, he says. Highsmith is, of course, deeply offended and tells him to leave with some expletives.
Ridgeway is presented as Highsmith’s opposite from the get-go. He’s gormless and desperate, like a puppy rolling over and crying to get what he thinks he wants. Highsmith is arrogant, dismissive and quite racist.
Sarah Peirse and Jarred Blakiston’s performance techniques are about as opposite as their characters. Peirse is natural and terrifying, while Blakiston brings a kind of extravagant drama to his character that doesn’t always make sense, until the end.
A lot of quick wit and well-timed sarcasm keep the weight of some of Highsmith’s comments from becoming too deeply uncomfortable as the characters go back and forth between their views of writing, culture and life.
The laughs from the audience were loud, but the interrogations do wear thin at times. The play really picks up pace when Highsmith and Ridgeway work together in conversation, rather than fight.
The pair inevitably bond over vintage knives and guns and a weird fetishisation of death. Highsmith attacks the American literary establishment, Ridgeway mopes over the state of New York organic cafe lattes (you can’t help but roll your eyes at this trope).
But where they really come together is through Highsmith’s fictional anti-hero, Tom Ripley. The character is alive on set – they admire Ripley’s dangerous personality and soon it’s clear they both want the ability to regenerate, just as he does on paper.
Lighting designer Nick Schlieper knocks it out of the park. There’s one point where Ridgeway walks over to a record player and tilts his head slightly as he speaks in an ominous tone under a dim light, and it’s like Schlieper is screaming a warning to the audience. Composer and sound designer Steve Francis’s choices of music and sound are discreet, well-timed, creepy and faultless.
With as many twists and turns as an old-fashioned crime novel, it’s hard to write about Switzerland without giving too much away and spoiling it all. It’s funny, it’s very creepy, and you’re never sure who you’re rooting for, or who you’re fearing for.
You don’t need to be a Ripley or Highsmith fan to enjoy Switzerland. An interest in cats and show tunes is also optional.
But an appetite for existentialism and arguments might be compulsory.
“The past sits on our shoulder, taunting us. Challenging us. To murder it.”
Following sell-out sessions in Sydney and Melbourne, Auckland Theatre Company presents Switzerland – opening at the ASB Waterfront Theatre on September 19 until October 7.