Transporting the story of Wilma Creith, the first Northern Irish trans bus driver, onto an actual stationary bus via the Greek myth of our last journey was a clever move in Kabosh Theatre’s production Suspect Device.Playwright Raphael Amahl Kouri has moved the Lagan to the Styx and the result is a tale told by the dead about the living. It enables us to understand Wilma’s tough choice as a matter of life and death. It is of course a story of prejudice against difference, but also generosity, and was compelling in the show premiering this week in the narrow theatre.
Wilma, joined by a woman she once gave a lift to, Pamela (Claire Lamont), and regular schoolgirl passenger Janice (Beca Barton), all tell their back stories. Janice, absurdly killed by a hockey ball to the head, has to choose her heaven on this ultimate ride and she dreams of a forbidden gay future with friend Julie. A character known as the Reverend (scary Vincent Higgins) pops up, why an obvious passenger at the back isn’t clear, but his role is to provide conflict and he does that in spades. He sings hymns about being washed in the blood of the Lamb, chastises Janice as already belonging to Satan, and nearly wins her tortured soul. The to-ing and fro-ing in the bus aisle was super dramatic, well directed by Paula McFetridge. But on the side of the angels, Wilma and Pamela argue the case for humanity and acceptance of who we are. In terms of acceptance, Translink director Werner Heubeck’s ordering of a special uniform for Wilma was a touching detail.
Mariah Louca is a superb actor and her account of Wilma’s journey from dissatisfied husband to trans woman was emotional, with a lot of warmth, The moment she came out of her reassignment surgery, without “that thing”, and looked at her female self in the mirror was very affecting.
Although she didn’t live long enough to appreciate her new status, Wilma’s is a good ending. So too Janice’s as she is dropped off to meet the love of her life, conveniently also deceased, in the Lunacy Hotel, the hostel for gay and trans citizens in Eglantine Street. You hope she shows up, as Julie missed the previous date in the bombed department store.
The bus continues through the night and Pamela and Wilma swap anecdotes. If the Greek underworld seems to have receded at this point, it doesn’t matter. Apparently Wilma’s favourite singer was Sylvester and they roll on into the distance to the sounds of his “You make me feel (Mighty real)”. Real is the word.
Jane Hardy
