'A Number' is an important contribution to the cloning debate from a great playwright
CARYL CHURCHILL's play
A Number was written in 2002 at the height of public hysteria regarding human cloning. Things have quietened down somewhat since then, at least in terms of media coverage, which allows this play to be enjoyed from a more detached point of view.
Alan Williams plays an ageing father, whose son has just discovered that a doctor created 21 clones of him as a child and these 'copies' are each now living their individual, parallel lives.
The play is enigmatic and suspenseful, with details slowly revealed, each one adding a new, and sometimes shocking twist, to the story.
The issue of identity is introduced almost immediately and is the overriding theme throughout. The questions begin early on and they are all compelling - "Would you know your son from a clone?" asks actor Stuart Graham. "Did you give him the same name as me?"
This last question quickly takes apart our ideas of individuality based on nomenclature - if someone has the same name as you, does that dilute your individuality, your uniqueness?
Churchill's questions are concise, clever and multi-layered.
When Williams asks one of his son's clones to describe something that is particular to him, something that makes him individual, it becomes apparent, in a very comedic way, how difficult it is to identify what exactly makes each one of us unique.
Churchill very effectively examines the question of nature versus nurture through the issue of cloning, bringing up the argument of personality and how it affects individuality. We are presented here with such different specimens amongst the clones, as well as the original himself, that it is hard to deny environment plays a large part in developing any person's identity.
Stuart Graham plays the original son and two of his clones, and does so very well, managing to switch fluidly between three very different characters.
Each scene is introduced with some very well-chosen music, quite similar to the episodic music used in Sofia Coppola's Lost In Translation, and it effectively conjures up an uncomfortable feeling of alienation.
The play is superbly written, economical with its use of language, giving you just enough information for you to understand what's going on without leaving you confused or frustrated. Even the characters' sentences are open-ended, truncated, left for the viewer to fill in the gaps.
This is an eerie and insidious play, whose secrets are slowly revealed along with some intriguing questions. Thoughtprovoking, superbly-written and sharply-acted. Everything you could ask for from a play.
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