Review: OUR COSMIC DUST, Park Theatre

Photo credit: Pamela Raith

Shotaro’s father has died. His mother told him that his dad became a star and he’s going to find him. Meanwhile, his very panicked mother is searching everywhere and asking everyone if they’ve seen him. As various pathways intersect, she tries make sense of how he’s taken the loss…

The current production at Park Theatre marks the shows official English Language debut, having been translated and adapted by Susan Momoko Hingley. Written by Michinari Ozawa, the show premiered in Japan in 2023 to great acclaim.

The design of the show is very barren, there’s just a hole in the middle of the floor and a few child-size chairs. Additionally, the costumes are kept natural and understated. This has been done to make best use of projections, which is an exceptional choice considering the quality of the projections. Highly imaginative child’s drawings of the night sky, constellations and places within the world of the story come to life on the back wall throughout the show, allowing and encouraging the audience to see the world from the perspective of a child.

The show presents Shotaro as a puppet, further asserting the fact that though the story is mostly told by his mother, we should be keeping in mind his perspective throughout.

Hiroki Berrecloth is a natural puppeteer and shows his understanding of perspective and the importance of differentiation to create clarity. In this case, Berrecloth seamlessly transitions between Shotaro’s interior thoughts and exterior ways of being through changing the focus of his body language. He makes his voice sound child-like without sounding childish, presenting the idea that children understand a lot more than we, as adults, tend to anticipate.

Additionally, due to this differentiation between the interior and the exterior world of Shotaro, Berrecloth is able to present different aspects of Shotaro’s personality through changes in his physicality and energy: in his head, he’s presented as quick thinking, charismatic and analytical, but this doesn’t translate to the concrete world where he’s presented as closed off and ‘not normal’ due to the fact that he doesn’t talk.

So having mentioned that Shotaro has shut down, you might be wondering what the story is actually about? It’s about the various ways we try to make sense of grief and how we cope with loss. In this instance, Shotaro runs away to find his dad, who we learn has died in a car accident, and stops in three places: a hospital ward, a crematorium and a planetarium. His mother, in tracing his footsteps, learns about the interactions he’s had with various people in these places.

During the process of adaptation, Hingley decided that, due to the universality of the story, the show should be set in the location that it’s being performed in. In this case, it’s set in an undetermined town in England, meaning that the language and frames of reference are altered to fit the culture of the setting, allowing for more audience relatability and better connection with the story. This is a strong choice as it allows us to focus on the story itself because it’s not a story about cultural difference.

The script is so powerful that there wasn’t a dry eye in the audience. It’s simple without being remotely condescending and honest, which is really refreshing. The show is unapologetic and unafraid to open up conversations about what actually happens to us (and our pets) when we die, different ideas about if we have a soul, what it is and where it goes and how we choose to remember someone.

It argues that children are curious and we shouldn’t be afraid of them asking questions, rather we should teach them that death is a part of life and focus on healthy ways of coping with loss rather than attempting to shield them from it or judging how they process it.

It suggests that adults shouldn’t hide their loss from children or from other adults and that in doing so, it opens up possibilities to connect on a deeper and kinder level.

It also states that grieving a family dog is as valid as grieving a parent or a partner.

This is very much a community piece told by an exceptionally strong cast, who don’t over explain or over exaggerate anything. The piece, ironically enough, feels very grounded and we feel as if the actors really believe in the importance of the story they’re telling.

Memorable, emotionally evocative and deeply moving, simultaneously brave and gentle. A beautiful and difficult watch that sends a message that feel very overdue.

***** Five stars

Reviewed by: Megan O’Neill

Our Cosmic Dust plays at London’s Park Theatre until 5 July, with further info here.