Love Letters, Canberra Rep, 15-26 March

 

AR Gurney's "Love Letters" has been in constant rotation on stages around the world since it premiered in 1989, due partially to a compelling story to perform covering two American children of privilege as they age from childhood to their late 50s, following them as they write (or don't write) letters back and forth. A carefully contained work that focuses on the two actors and their storytelling as they grow back and forth, the simple setup belies complex emotions - Andrew and Melissa are clearly drawn to each other but their individual personalities, shaped in childhood, as he strives to achieve more and she rankles with the expectations put upon her, push them apart. Melissa even rankles with the storytelling medium we have - pushing Andrew for a genuine personal connection rather than just his preferred approach, the calm, considered, written word. It's a story of two people that also acts as an indictment of their entire world - the unwritten social rules that trap both of them, the upbringings that set both up so poorly for adulthood, and the way their passions bring both undone. 

There's a risk that a production of this could feel overly static or staid, with the two performers locked to their desks reading missive after missive, never interacting face to face but instead recapping recent events every time they send another letter. That risk is successfully avoided by Kate Blackhurst's production, letting the two performers use their individual spaces in a mobile kind of way - kiddishly climbing over tables and chairs in the early stages, pacing nervously as things get more overwhelming in their adulthood, and drawing away from the writing desk when a more considered response is required. 

Of course, this production effort would be nothing without two superlative actors in the roles, and we are fortunate to get a reunion of Michael Sparks and Adrea Close incarnating their roles - with Sparks you see the good intentions and earnest striving and also the piggheadedness as he refuses to understand the damage his slow, careful consideration is causing Melissa. With Close you get the joy and the recklessness and the sorrow as the consequences of that recklessness land on her, as the story moves at a pace to its inevitable ending. 

On a beautifully simple set by Andrew Kay, lit gorgeously by Stephen Still, we see the closeness and the distance between these two people as their passions push and pull them back and forth over around 50 years worth of stage time in a little under 120 minutes. It's an enriching, powerful production that should be relished by anyone who relishes a strong story well told.