Invisible at Plymouth's Drum Theatre

As an exploration of the many sides of migration, Invisible wears its politics very lightly indeed. By focussing on the individual experience, Croatian playwright Tena Stivicic has created a moving, absorbing and funny portrayal of what it means to aspire to something other than what you’ve been dealt.

Stefan, Anton, Leyla, Malik, Lara, Sera: the characters that meet at Camp Europe – gazing across the water at the white cliffs, wondering whether women really do wander the golden streets half-naked – are fleeing war, repression, and economic stagnation. They’re craving safety, security, opportunity and the chance to create a life for themselves. Felix and Ann, meanwhile, are a successful ‘power’ couple: running businesses, travelling, employing a cleaner. And yet they are buckling under the pressure that the capitalist machine demands of its cogs – exhausted, dispirited, rejecting the intimacy that keeps the human heart alive. The way in which Stivicic binds all their stories together is unexpected – the opening scene has Felix alluding to ‘an incident...the sequence of events’ – and the result is a deftly woven drama that has more to do with the similarities of people the world over rather than any racial, cultural or psychological differences.

The performances are spot on: Anna Elijasz as the perpetually optimistic and industrious Lara is particularly good, as is Jon Foster as Felix, whose story forms the narrative framework of the action; Gracy Goldman’s turn as the high-maintenance Louise, explaining her way through a US visa application, is one of the play’s comic highlights; and Mark Jax’s oleaginous Gerry represents all that is abhorrent about businessmen abroad. Bridgitta Roy convinces as Sera, the asylum seeker searching for her husband – it is through her that we see the grim reality of hostile Home Office bureaucracy – but she’s got her work cut out for her in the role of Ann, Felix’s brittle wife, the play’s least sympathetic character (I’m not including Gerry – he’s an out and out villain). It’s a shame that while Felix, in his response to stress and dissatisfaction, is permitted to philosophise and flirt, Ann’s embodiment of the pressures of modern life casts her as a self-serving harpy withholding sexual favours. And what is it with those dreadful palazzo pants? Ann is a successful woman living in Clerkenwell, a chi-chi part of London – surely she’d wear better clothes...

The staging and choreography controls the interplay between the many characters effectively; the audio tracks of migrant experiences played over connecting scenes – as well as the off-stage exchanges with faceless officials – presses home the heteroglossia of the piece and the world it presents. I particularly loved the slow-mo set changes, and the same technique rendered the nightclub scene utterly convincing, skilfully building the tension.

This is a cracking play, one that tackles a tricky subject with a delicate touch; in less assured hands, it may well have felt like a endurance test. Stivicic’s gift for creating realistic situations results in a humane portrayal of characters in inhuman circumstances.

Invisible is a joint production between Transport and New Wolsey Theatre, and is Plymouth’s Drum Theatre until 29^th October.