The scene is intriguingly set (Grae Burton is the playwright and set designer). Opaque screens drop from ceiling to floor creating a feeling of sterility and containment. The screens play back images, and from the start we see the inflated projection of Mark’s head (Matt Baker).

I didn’t read anything about Freeload before going in. I like surprises. I’m enjoying this added weight of mystery; Jeanie (Alisha Lawrie Paul) is a young woman expressing anguish and yet also appears to be commanding her whole environment. She has a relationship with Mark that starts in a virtual world; they are both programmers losing distinction for what is ‘real’ and what is not.

At times the actors’ use of lip synching to their own pre-recorded voices provides an extremely disconcerting effect; a feeling of distance from being human. Director Jane Yonge has also done well with the more subtle movements and repetitions the actors display, the slight hand gesture that shuts down a programme /person, the dance like movement throughout the whole piece reflecting the characters’ repetitious regret: “why didn’t we dance?”

The start of the play is a little stiff, but as the mystery unravels, so do the opening night nerves. Like much good Sci Fi, this play forces the viewer to consider notions of illusion, creation, responsibility and what it is to be human.

Jeanie (you’ll have Bowie’s song stuck in your head all night) and Mark are flapping around, searching for meaning, expressing some good old fashioned angst, and in contrast they are continually presided over and assisted by the wonderfully cold Messenger (Jason Hodzelmans).

Hodzelmans has perfected the benign calm of robotic servant/guru.  Messenger is part of the created virtual world that we’re watching unfold, as if we have somehow stumbled upon a programme that’s showing us the secret to our own existence. We’re all a pattern. We’re all programmed. Aren’t we?

Jeanie’s story includes her (virtual, recreated) little sister, the one who likes Pooh Bear (I’d like to burn that thing by the end of the show). There’s a twist of course, but I’m not going to give that away. Sometimes I’m reminded of that spooky feeling from old Sci Fi programme Sapphire and Steel (on too late, go to bed!) or the creeping terror the opening music from Doctor Who would instil in me as a child.

The acting is too inflated at times and might benefit from a lighter touch, and there isn’t any romantic chemistry between Alisha’s Jeanie and Matt’s Mark, but these are minor glitches that are easily resolved (just pretend it’s that person you really fancy). Sister Epinine sparkles with the manic intensity of a new born Christian as she clings to Pooh Bear and pontificates in her perfect English accent. It’s like having a little bit of Keira Knightly, but one who can act.

Costumes (Poppy Mansell) are ill fitting, but this suits the feeling of the play. The young women are wearing dresses that make you think of mental hospitals or the $10 rack in a chain store sale. Mark is all tucked in and computer tech conservative, Messenger gets to rock an all white tux style outfit reinforcing the guru vibe, and the all-seeing eyes of V-Tal (the boss) are dressed only with the calm voice of Paul Bains.

This is a thoroughly engaging play, like seeing an old episode of Doctor Who come to life. Much of this creepy atmosphere is achieved due to a level of attention to lighting (Sam Mence), sound (Andrew Hird) and overall production (James Wenley). The way that Messenger was lit from below as he stood behind one of the screens, or the amount of attention and precision involved in getting the sound in sync, really pays off.

Sure, it’s blatantly in keeping with Sci Fi that’s gone before, but if this is a genre you enjoy (which I do) then all that matters is that it’s well done and keeps you guessing. Download complete. 

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