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Exploring Cultural Identity and Family in ‘Counting and Cracking’
Dive into the intricate themes of cultural identity and family dynamics in ‘Counting and Cracking’. This exploration reveals how personal and collective histories shape our understanding of belonging and connection across generations.
Artistic Endurance in Theater: A Deep Dive into “Counting and Cracking”
Some theatrical productions utilize an extended running time as a means to challenge audience perceptions and immerse them deeply in the narrative. This approach can pull viewers into a trance-like state, testing their endurance and engagement—an ultimate artistic gambit. On the other hand, there are performances that are lengthy simply because they have a rich and complex story to tell.
Such is the case with “Counting and Cracking,” a captivating play that unfolds over three and a half hours, weaving an intricate tale of family connections and national turmoil that spans from Sri Lanka to Australia over nearly five decades. As the first of two intermissions arrived, I found myself reeling from a stunning plot twist, with the production—presented at N.Y.U. Skirball in collaboration with the Public Theater—promising even more in the acts to come. It’s that kind of compelling narrative.
Written by S. Shakthidharan, who draws inspiration from his own family history and also serves as an associate director, “Counting and Cracking” kicks off in Sydney in 2004. The play opens with Radha (portrayed by Nadie Kammallaweera), who briskly instructs her son, the 21-year-old Siddhartha (played by Shiv Palekar), to scatter his grandmother’s ashes in the Georges River. Following this, he must immerse himself in the water—a ritual mandated by tradition.
“In Tamil, we don’t say goodbye,” Radha tells Siddhartha. “Only, I will go and come back.” As the narrative unfolds, we gradually uncover the profound implications of these words for her, as well as for her family and community.
The story transports us back to 1983, when Radha, pregnant and living in her homeland of Sri Lanka, received the devastating news of her husband Thirru’s (played by Antonythasan Jesuthasan) death amid the burgeoning civil war between the Tamil minority and the Sinhala majority. In the wake of violence, she fled to Australia, where she gave birth to a child who would grow up largely disconnected from his cultural roots.
At a brisk pace, Shakthidharan and director Eamon Flack—who is also credited with associate writing—skillfully navigate between the worlds of Sydney and Sri Lanka, spanning the 1950s (when the South Asian nation was still called Ceylon) through the tumultuous 1980s and into the 2000s. The language in the play is equally dynamic, as the 16 actors seamlessly switch between English, Sinhala, and Tamil, providing instant translations when necessary, enhancing the richness of the storytelling.