Translunar Paradise

I’m not sure I’ve seen many more moving shows than Translunar Paradise. It tells the story of how an old man (George Mann) copes after his wife (Deborah Pugh) has died of cancer.

At first, we see the pair as an elderly couple, with the young actors holding beautiful, expressive masks up to their faces to make them look like their older selves. Then, after the wife’s death, we are transported back and forth between the husband’s memories – the Translunar Paradise of the title – and the present day, where he sits grief-stricken at his kitchen table, passing time.
As he makes himself a cup of tea, taking down two cups from the shelf out of habit or starts to unpack his late wife’s suitcase, everyday items spark off vivid and poignant memories.
The story is told silently, the pair acting out their quarrels, tragedies and love, as an entire life together is sketched out before us. As Mann and Pugh interact, slipping in and out of the husband’s memories, they are accompanied by Kim Heron on the accordion, who as well as providing a musical soundtrack, uses her voice and the instrument to supply sound effects to the action. The whooshing of a noteless accordion becomes the slipping on and off of the masks, the tapping of the keys represents the ticking of a clock.
The inventiveness of the storytelling is constantly amazing, the story universal and bittersweet, and the performance from this Lecoq-trained company immaculate. Their movements are precise yet fluid and are perfectly complemented by Heron’s haunting music.
Perhaps the most remarkable aspect of the performance is the level of detail in the narrative – and indeed the characterisation – that is achieved despite the play having no text whatsoever. The only equivalent I have ever seen is the opening 15 minutes of the Pixar film Up.
I really cannot recommend this highly enough – it is not just one of the best shows I have seen at this year’s fringe, but any fringe. The show tours after its run in Edinburgh and I see no reason why it couldn’t sustain a transfer to a small studio theatre in London.
However, if you’re prone to tears, bring plenty of tissues.