There’s a fair bit of ground covered in this show, but it doesn’t always drill down as deep as it could into the various topics that come to the fore in a wide-ranging dialogue, encompassing everything from the lyrical content of Taylor Swift’s back catalogue to the misinterpretation of the term ‘white privilege’, which was never originally intended to mean that if an individual happened to be white, they are automatically financially rich and always get everything they want without ever having to work for it.
Apparently, the story is about three teenagers all attempting to pursue the American Dream. It is a pity, then, that they don’t seem to agree on what the Dream is. Beatrice (Caroline Kriesen) wants to change the world by writing a groundbreaking novel – she comes across as someone who wants to take down ‘the patriarchy’ and attributes what she believes to be the commercial success of Ed (Sam Seabrook) to his pigmentation. Except it transpires that Beatrice hasn’t written a novel yet, but Ed has, which to my mind would be the obvious reason for Ed’s relative success – as for Beatrice, how exactly is a book publisher meant to publish a book that hasn’t even been written, irrespective of personal characteristics?
Beatrice has a love triangle going on, even if her ludicrously conflicted self refuses to acknowledge what’s happening. Enter Avery (a confident and assured Cameron Murphy), who Beatrice encounters in the process of meeting various fellow students at the start of their degree courses. They go hiking – Avery enjoys it, Beatrice not so much – which provides ample opportunity for conversation, then differences of opinion, then full-blown arguments (or, if one is looking to be kind, dramatic tension). Avery appears to have been raised in the Catholic faith, and attending a liberal minded university isn’t without challenges for someone who, as Beatrice puts it, has a strong sense of right and wrong.
A staged reading, in some respects, leaves less to the imagination, as staged directions are read out (at this performance, by Tali Nishihara Jones). Still, it was a curious choice to have characters sit on the floor for certain scenes in a venue where neither the stage nor the seating is raked – let’s just say I am unable to pass comment on what I couldn’t see. What made the dialogue less accessible was the script’s tendency to leave sentences unfinished. This might have been more forgivable if it were something one character did. When they all do it, and it repeatedly goes unchallenged, there is less to distinguish one character from another, with the added bonus of not being entirely certain what anybody is going on about.
In a full production, there would be ‘cinematic’ versions of the characters, made distinct from the ‘real’ versions, an intriguing concept that channels the characters’ imaginations. This isn’t a device that is overused. In line with many (but by no means all) contemporary plays, there’s some timehopping, and while not everything is presented in chronological order, there is at least some logic to the way in which the narrative unfolds. There’s some trimming to be done here – for instance, there are some very bizarre takes on Orpheus and Eurydice that are ultimately superfluous to the storyline – but this is a striking example of what can happen when people can’t see the wood for the trees.
Review by Chris Omaweng
Beatrice goes to university to do one thing: write the Great American Novel. Instead, she sleeps with Ed.
Ed is white, privileged, and emotionally intelligent. Beatrice is mixed, scrappy, and emotionally repressed. Ed listens to Beatrice’s dreams, her vulnerabilities, and her personal experience as a mixed-race daughter of immigrants. The next morning, Beatrice leaves. Ed writes down their one-night stand in impeccable, excruciating detail. His “fictional” short story goes viral. People love his complex female character. Ed becomes a symbol of interracial and intercultural triumph. Beatrice remains anonymous and unsuccessful.
Beatrice wants revenge.
Beatrice – Caroline Kriesen
Avery – Cameron Murphy
Ed – Sam Seabrook
Writer – Caroline Krisen
Director / Producer – Esalan Gates
Stage Directions – Tali Nishihara Jones
Poster Photographer – Fernanda Delgado
BELOW THE TREELINE
The Space Theatre
30 November 2025
