What Lies Beneath Our Forgetting And Our Remembering?

REVIEW BY CHARLOTTE FRASER

EDITED BY EMMA PARFITT

It is time to confront the darkness. You and me, here and now. It’s there, it’s calling. It’s time to hear its song and to sing back. Can you hear it? 

Sarah Miller’s What Lies Beneath is the song we can sing into the void. The play uses the myth of Persephone’s descent and the adjacent stories of Hekate and Demeter to confront the darkness in a world wrought with violence and oppression. It laments the loss of the ancient temples and knowledges, of a willingness to face and worship the darkness. The play is a feat of blending myth and metaphor in a relevant, original way. With Hekate, Demeter and Persephone as our guides, we are told a frenzied, poetic tale of grief and growth. It doesn’t shy away from lamenting loudly for what has been lost, posing questions about how female stories are told and, more importantly, how they are forgotten. 

For those unfamiliar, Demeter is the Greek goddess of the harvest, grain and fertility. She is Zeus’ sister and the two of them have a child together (it was a different time). That child is Persephone, who grows to be a beautiful young woman only to be taken by Hades – her uncle and God of the underworld – and forced to be his bride. While there are different versions of the myth, this seems to be the one which Miller’s play draws on. Persephone becomes the Goddess of spring, the underworld and the dead – her journey between the earth and underworld is where the seasons are said to come from. Hekate is a special figure. She’s the goddess of crossroads, witchcraft, the underworld – many ‘dark’ things. She is the triple goddess, made up of the figures of a maiden, a mother and a crone, and an incredibly powerful figure. These three goddesses notably also make up Hekate’s triple: Persephone the maiden, Demeter the mother and Hekate the crone. 

This play, while a beautiful original telling of these myths, at times felt overwhelmingly metaphorical and a little convoluted. There seemed to be so many ideas happening at any one time – the ‘darkness’, the transformative pomegranate, the wild honey dance – and for a show so short, focusing in on a select few images could have made a stronger impact. Additionally, I wonder if having a few more moments of connection between the women themselves, rather than having them mainly speak to the audience or voice internal monologue, could have helped the audience digest the important messages and themes of the show. The use of multiple languages – English, Italian and Greek – layered on top of one another and spoken in rounds was incredibly interesting to listen to on an acoustic level but due to the staging it was sometimes difficult to hear all the performers and understand fully what was being communicated. That said, I still found this production to be thought-provoking and extremely engaging.

The realisation of these myths in Miller’s play sees Persephone – or Kori, for much of the play – as a very familiar teenage figure; one who wants to forge her own path. Her ‘descent’ is a chaotic frenzy as she licks her hands and makes a mess of her clothes. Despite how abstract the show is, Persephone comes across as the audience’s agent, making everything feel real and relatable. Suddenly, these ancient goddesses are our interlocutors. This is an absolute credit to Daphne Gerolymou-Papadopoulos’ performance as Persephone. She didn’t hold back, speaking directly to us, making us confront the darkness with her, and when the pomegranate fell from the ceiling, she tore it apart with her bare hands and let the arils and juice flow everywhere. Gerolymou-Papadopoulos is an incredibly skilled performer and hopefully one that I see more of in the future.

Rosa Voto as Demeter brings a controlled mixture of maternal grief and anger to the stage. Her monologues were captivating, but her physicality stole the show. It is no surprise that Voto was also the choreographer for the show, as her ability to command the stage while dancing cannot be understated. Each movement felt purposeful and emotional; her dance towards the end of the play, where Demeter is then joined by her returned Daughter, was more powerful than most of her monologues. Dance and movement were so integral to this show and it’s a credit to her skill and deep understanding of the story being told. 

Hekate, the triple goddess, goddess of crossroads, is taken on by Clare Larman. Throughout the play, Hekate seems to be more of an observer, offering guidance to both Demeter and Persephone. However, the strongest moments were when Larman spoke directly to the audience. She has an entrancing grace about her, like she holds all the knowledge of the dark and light, the ancient and the contemporary. When she finds Persephone in the underworld, at a crossroads, lost and uncertain about what lies ahead, she encourages her to do what the play asks of us. To shed the comfort of daylight and experience what lies in the dark.   

Under the capable and conscientious direction of Cassandra Fumi, these myths come to life and engage audiences on a deeply emotional level. Miller, in the shows programme, articulates that ‘there are times in every life when we have to embark on a journey [… into …] the uncomfortable shadows [and] dark places we usually avoid’, and Fumi’s work ensures that this feeling of necessity and desperation is woven throughout the production. For a show with so many moving parts to work together so seamlessly certainly is a sign of an excellent director. 

Louisa Fitzgerald designed both the beautiful costumes and the visually striking set. The costumes were the perfect balance of the classical Grecian aesthetic – drapery and flowing cloth – with an earthy colour palette that grounds us in a world that feels real rather than too fantastical. The set, too, provided a striking backdrop to the emotional journey being displayed. One of my favourite parts of the show was when the drapes fell from the ceiling during Persephone’s descent into the underworld, only to be picked up and turned into her costume. It was a standout moment and, safe to say, I have never seen anything like it. 

The lighting, designed and programmed by Amelia Lumley and Ash Basham respectively, complemented Fitzgerald’s work on the set and costume excellently. The light bouncing off the reflective material hanging at the back cast light around the stage giving an almost dream-like look. The lighting assisted in the world-building of the show, creating an environment that balanced the real and fantastical in an elegant manner.

The music and sound in this production were nothing short of incredible. Designed and composed by Ria Soemardjo, this production blended live music with recorded sound seamlessly. Having all of the actresses use their voice, singing and humming, as well as play many different instruments in typical and innovative ways, like the frame drum and symbols in bows of water, made for a thrilling auditory journey. I have never seen a show that used sound so meticulously and to such great effect. The heavy metal section at the end took me by surprise but worked well to complement and heighten the emotion of Persephone’s outburst.

What Lies Beneath is a raw and unique play. Miller and Fumi’s work bring the still-relevant stories of a young woman going through a transformation and a mother grappling with the injustice of losing her daughter to the darkness – however transformative it proves to be – to contemporary audiences in a striking, emotive way. The play asks us to remember stories of old and remember the darkness they permitted us to explore. Which, in a time of such extreme hostility and monopolies of power, is immensely relevant. 


What Lies Beneath played October 14th – 18th at Theatre Works Explosives Factory as part of the Melbourne Fringe Festival.


CHARLOTTE FRASER (she/her) is a writer, performer and student editor based in Melbourne. She holds a BA in English and Theatre Studies and is currently completing her Masters degree at the University of Melbourne.

EMMA PARFITT (she/her) is the Dialog’s head editor and has written Dialog reviews alongside studying towards her science degree for the past two years. She is a production manager, stage manager and producer on the Melbourne indie theatre scene and a veteran of student theatre at Union House Theatre. 

The Dialog is supported by Union House Theatre.