Faye Carver is having a bad time of it. Having suffered from insomnia for the best part of three weeks, she is at her wit’s end. Advice from various doctors has been unhelpful and there is no hope in sight. What should she do? So begins Ciara Elizabeth Smyth’s latest play, which is currently running at the Royal Court Theatre. Directed by Oisín Kearney, Lie Low isn’t your average show about insomnia – or home invasion for that matter.

Tone is a very important aspect of the play and as such, could be described as a black comedy. The early scenes where Faye (Charlotte McCurry) talks with the disembodied presence of Rory Nolan are very funny, as there is the linguistic tug of war between the medical fraternity (who insist there is definitely something wrong with her) and Faye who insists she’s “fine”. But what triggered this bout of insomnia? Nothing recently, but almost a year ago, Faye arrived home to find an intruder (who was wearing a mask) who struck her and when she regained consciousness, he was ‘exposing’ himself to her while clutching her underwear in his hand…

The observant will find Faye’s brother name not commonplace in the UK (Naoise – played by Thomas Finnegan). While the play is set in Ireland, beyond the idioms, the themes covered on the play aren’t confined to one place or time. His presence in the play is very much a catalyst for Faye’s ‘epiphany’ regarding the best course of action. If Faye is full of fire and energy, Naoise is much more passive and less self-assured. We also find out that Naoise’s visit is long overdue and that beyond the ‘pleasantries’, he has a specific purpose – which dovetails into Faye’s circumstances.

By the time we get to the crux of the play, instead of becoming very tense (which it is within parameters), it takes on an more surrealist bent. From an emotional standpoint, does this ‘work’? I dare say that for those who have experienced trauma, the turn of events in the play ‘doesn’t ring true’ and may even argue it ‘cheapens’ their experiences. However, in one respect, Lie Low’s tact is not out of left field.

Plays that use dark humour to broach sensitive subjects are nothing new. Two that immediately spring to mind include The Wonderful World of Dissocia by Anthony Neilson and Clare Mcintyre’s Low Level Panic. In the case of Lie Low though, the veering toward surrealism in some segments of the show amplifies the detachment from the ‘horror’ of Faye’s experience.

Where the play does retain its ‘bite’ is the microscopic examination of past behaviour of both siblings. Under certain criteria, neither has sibling has exhibited exemplary judgement and under draconian standards, ‘should have’ expected there’d be consequences to their impromptu behaviour.

So is there closure and happiness for all? The play does suggest that might be case, but with the accusations and confessions that take place in Lie Low, what has been said cannot be taken back and the inception of certain ideas cannot be erased, once they are thought of…

© Michael Davis 2024

Lie Low runs at the Royal Court Theatre until 8th June.

Lie Low