Tensions run high in this tense family drama that fizzes in the Caribbean heat of Trinidad against a backdrop of colonialism and organised crime.
Martina Laird’s debut play, a collaboration between the Royal Shakespeare Company and Kiln Theatre, centres the action within ALMA, a run-down gentleman’s club in the Port of Spain owned by wealthy Brit Mansion (Roger Ringrose). However, it is ruled over and defended by the deteriorating Pearl (Ellen Thomas) and her aspirational, beguiling daughter Ruby (Cat White). Initially, the piece seems to be drifting towards a showdown between mother and daughter regarding the future of the club, but Driftwood pivots upon the arrival of Diamond (Martins Imhangbe) and American sailor Tom (Ziggy Heath).
Where Laird’s script thrives is in its authenticity in bringing life to the Trinidadians, restricted and exploited by British and American rule, to the fore. Laird’s script leans heavily into Trinidadian patois, drawn out by Justin Audibert’s direction in a manner that deliberately makes certain sections of the play slightly too difficult to decipher, a choice that reminds us of the cultural differences and distances here. Yet, it also captures the vibrancy and spirit of Trinidad, tonally shifting from the colour and charm of the calypso cadence to a darker, more desperate resolution as the threat over Pearl and her family increasingly looms.
As Pearl, Thomas shines as a woman trying to hide her personal and professional struggles behind a facade of stoicism. Pearl’s permanent limp from her days walking in tired shoes debt collecting, is a neat metaphor for the impact of British oppression and exploitation, taking its toll both mentally and physically. There are moments in Driftwood where the scandal within Pearl’s family threatens to erupt, yet under Audibert’s direction, Thomas is far more restrained, only fully letting go in the play’s moving final moments.
Meanwhile, White’s defiant Ruby is equally arrogant and charming, with a grace and poise apparent as she sweeps across the stage, juxtaposing her harsh tongue and belittling of Pearl. Ruby, to Pearl, shapeshifts from daughter to commodity in this gentleman’s club, and White effectively evokes this conflict within the character, whose moral direction fades away at the sight of a better life. Ruby is a victim of circumstance, yet within Laird’s script and White’s portrayal, she is much fiercer and more determined, albeit with a slightly underwhelming resolution by the end.
Imhangbe’s Diamond is assured and full of male bravado, eventually taken down by the island’s capitalist oppressors, with Imhangbe deft in portraying an adult man desperate for an absent mother’s love. It is an overly broody performance which gets a little stuck in some stifling scene transitions and awkward dialogue, especially in one oddly chosen Shakespearean line, yet one that still is reined back in for a powerful conclusion.
Ringrose’s Mansion, on the other hand, is the stereotypical Brit cashing in on colonialism. Reduced to necking alcohol and toffing about, Mansion is a little too two-dimensional against the other characters, and sways from charming father figure to creepy uncle when interacting with Ruby. Rounding off the cast is Shane David Joseph’s policeman Seldom, whose hapless entrance feels a little too cartoonish, though it is through Seldom that the play twists in the second half, which David Joseph deftly delivers.
Driftwood thrives, however, in its neat, claustrophobic setting. An ominous wooden statue sits in pride of place at the back, while light lingers through stencilled walls, blending light and shadow neatly. The walls are malleable too, creating to good effect a sense of claustrophobia that lingers.
A bit like the material it is named after, the production floats and meanders, dented only by a few unnecessarily elongated moments and lengthy transitions. Yet, it kindles into something much more inflammatory by the end, with Laird’s piece thriving when it captures, among the chaos, the fraught family caught in its crossfire.
