Dreams. Do they mean anything or are they just a function of our brains ‘defragging’: rearranging random fragments of experience, thoughts and feelings into more coherent ‘memory files’ to be accessed at will, when we’re awake?  

They are “how we process our base emotive values as an integral part of finding our existential meaning,” a programme note asserts. “Often it is this subconscious analysis that leads to epiphany. But how do our dreams relate to our reality and who we are as people? What can you tell about someone just from their dreams?”

The writer/ director/ set designer of The Dream, Shona Jaunas, wants us to share the experience of Danielle’s dream then think about our own dreams (if we can remember them; many of us find they evaporate as soon as we try to recall them). “I find it incredible that we ignore such a huge part of our existence,” her programme note continues. “I believe our dreams can help us and I think that in the future as more and more of our functions are taken on by artificial intelligence, our dreams will become more and more important as a point of reference to our humanity.”

By the time we take our seats in BATS’ Heyday Dome the audience hum is drowning out the quiet voice that accompanies the extreme close-up of a golden eye, blinking and moving on a large white gauze curtain as its owner speaks. As the houselights eventually fade we catch her anxieties about wanting to do a good job, whether she gets to sit with the cool kids or nerds (sourced from school days) and having to buy a house. I conclude she has been describing her dream(s).

The projected image becomes a couple arriving by car at a flash hotel then navigating their way by mobile phone app into the foyer, up the lift – then they arrive live on stage to their voice-activated rooms. It’s Danielle’s white-furnished room that dominates the stage although she invites Tim in for a drink before she has a nap.

It emerges Danielle (Rebecca Parker) and Tim (Sepelini Mau’au) are part of a theatre troupe touring A Midsummer Night’s Dream and they are currently in Japan. (Why did we not see the whole troupe arrive at the hotel? Are these two privileged while the others go down-market?). She is playing Titania and apparently some of her fairies are upstaging her.

Danielle’s attempts to sleep are interrupted by hotel staff – Dani (Loren Whithair and Elle (Sophia Elisabeth) whose rather obvious ‘acting’ tends to subvert the necessary contrast between ‘reality’ and the forthcoming dream – and a fire alarm which leads to problems returning to her room. Once in bed, random TV channel-hopping adds to the plethora of potential ‘inputs’ … And the imagery morphs into a high mountain skier’s POV as a voice repeats, “I’m coming …”

We are in Danielle’s dream. If you plan to see The Dream you may wish to leave reading the rest until after, so that your observations and interpretations are not influenced by mine.

(Spoiler alert) Her live, self-aggrandising act as ‘Miss Taken’ at the Steam Boat Cabaret gives way to degradation and Shakespearean taunts and insults from which she runs away – from herself – to encounter a wall (but not the wall “that hath in it a crannied hole, or chink”, although it may be one that separates lovers).  

There is risk-taking, dietary temptation, body-shaming, gardening and raw food, badminton … Questioning the definition of ‘happy’ gives rise to strange modes of transport … There’s a cliff, a beach, the ocean … Huge poppies; guilt-inducing reactions to the News … A death-wish scenario involving Tim … Some confusing but credible-sounding dialogue becomes a wrestle with bureaucracy involving giant-sized fruit, cream buns and profound homilies …

She tries and fails to dress in small girl’s clothes; the voice that said “I’m coming” now promises “I’m always here” – and the sense of security relied on from her mother is now transferred to Tim. Is that an earthquake, and if so is it dreamed or real? The underwater bit with a weird creature is back in a dream … Then her wake-up call brings her out of the dream (alert ends).

We have to sublimate our conscious awareness of the physical realities of live performance to immerse ourselves in the dream world and I expect that will happen differently for everyone. I treasure the times I am fully engaged.

When I consider the difference between what I imagine is Danielle’s strong, confident and assertive Titania and the more insecure person revealed in her dream, the play becomes richer – and I wonder if something in the play could manifest her public status as a leading actor in a powerful role.

Rebecca Parker holds the central focus with an impressively modulated performance which, along with an effectively understated Sepelini Mau’au, draws us in us in and compels our belief – abetted by seamless contributions from Andy Fergusson’s lighting design, operated by Michelle Cameron, and lead composer Jimi Wilson who designs and operates the sound. (Full credits listed here.)

The Dream offers a credible insight into the truths of unreality. 

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