The Bridge

The Bridge is an episodic play that seems to be more about ticking boxes than telling a coherent story.

A collection of interlocking internal monologues, it jumps from character to character as it tackles a kaleidoscope of themes. Self harm? Check. Suicide? Check. Personal acceptance, bullying, bereavement and romantic angst? Yep to all.

The audience meets five characters who are connected in different ways to the bridge of the title. Chief among them is the Tollman, a semi-narrator who looks after the bridge and has a knack for hearing distressed voices from the doomed. Played by Mark Kydd, the character is the emotional lynchpin of the production and has many moments that are emotionally ripe and rewarding.

It’s a shame, then, that the other characters are mostly thin outlines that are etched onstage primarily to voice a number of concerning issues. When these characters are allowed moments to breathe and have theatrical life on stage, the play takes off. Unfortunately, these moments are few.

There is a great piece of advice that many writers are given in their training: show, don’t tell. It is advice that writers Wendy Miller and Rachel Amey could certainly have used when scripting The Bridge, because when they show, it works very well. However, as the majority of the play is constant telling, the production mostly stalls before the emotional sucker punches it obviously wants to deliver.

The Bridge still has its moments. It is well written, even if its structure is fractured and its characters are chained to speaking for the writers, and it has spirited performances. It could have heeded Elvis Presley’s advice: a little less conversation, a little more action, please.