Bathwater – a haunting confrontation of what it means to carry pain

Five stars.

Writer Sam Asher Misan and director Eva Cotton masterfully pull together some of the best artists in Cambridge Theatre to produce one of the most moving plays I have ever seen.

From the very beginning, the world of the play is shaped with extraordinary cohesion:  Li Xuan Ho’s lighting design, Finlay Wyer’s technical direction as well as Sam Asher Misan and Eva Cottons’s set including Cotilde Dumont’s Bath Prop combine to create a beautiful rendering of soft pale textures and entanglement between real and surreal. A blue murky wash shrouds the set in an at-once enveloping and intangible depth, reminiscent of the ocean, yet starkly contrasted with immaculate furnishings once the drapes are lifted. The set is almost costume-like, becoming a part of the pain and painted passion of Avi, played by Kiko Gomersall. The memory of heritage and the experience of suffering intertwine so that neither can be glimpsed without the other. There is no soft without the sharp, no warmth without blue. Throughout, the ingenuity and vivacity are absolutely effortless, what is dreamy and ephemeral transforms into cold, cutting truth in an instant.

Bathwater, at its heart, shows us unflinching pain, how we deal with, suppress and transpose it into symbols that can be at once beautiful and despondent. From the faceless, painted mermaid to the child’s drawings at the forefront of the stage, and Shira’s (Natalia-Paloma Zinger) mournful singing, Sam Asher Misan finds a way to render human pain in its multiplicity, its silence and its song. I could write a whole article devoted to the performances in the play, particularly those of Kiko Gomersall and Natalia-Paloma Zinger who, from the very start transform every movement, word and silence into a masterful rendering of suffering carried by their characters. Gomersall’s attention to detail – a twitch of the head, a small smirk, a trembling hand – never goes unmissed in such an intimate performance space. At times, the hopelessness portrayed by the cast is hard to watch, a stark reminder that theatre should not be easy, but should confront, challenge and breathe with its audiences. I was truly moved by such performances, with every moment proving to be a powerful reminder of how fragile and intangible our perception of ourselves and of others is.

However, Sam Asher Misan’s writing caters as much to the moments of freedom, play and comedy which facilitate the tragedy of Avi’s reality and past. His portrayal of human relationships is hauntingly true to not only the lived reality of characters, but the irreconcilability of the differing ways in which we feel and perceive our surroundings. The writing itself has a soul, seeping into and shaping what is not spoken just as much as what is. A sharp word turns into a playful jibe, and a moment of intimacy is erased in an instant whereby nothing is certain.

The costumes by Esther Crasnow, Tamina Kurtis Hamzaoui, Fifi Gilani and Edie Levine are beautifully done with a cohesive form and texture that perfectly complements the construction of an identity. The characters seem fully formed in their clothes, as if picked out by themselves and not chosen for them – the mark of care and belief in what is truly incredible work.

Bathwater perfectly complements the talents of everyone involved. The animation made by Fifi Gilani is masterful and vividly symbolic of Avi’s helplessness in a prescribed, not chosen life. The music is beautiful and in tandem with the hauntingly painful singing directed by Edgar Harding and Eloise Eisenberg; there is a shockingly human edge to every single piece of art that becomes the final play. What really struck me is that everything is made, not just literally but metatheatrically in the play. Paintings are half-finished, drawings are left bare, the attention to environment, the perfection of the dinner table, the tidiness of a living room is so evidently constructed that it becomes a window to see through the product and into the process, a methodology applied to the set, music and characters in every way. Everything is unravelled and put back together, nothing is left unseen in its most raw and honest state.

“After seeing and participating in much student theatre, this has to be the best I have seen.”

Its attention-to-detail, fluid cohesion and confrontational attitude towards the most difficult and ugly parts of life is unflinchingly moving. I look forward to seeing the future work of everyone else involved.

Bathwater was platformed at Queens’ College Amateur Dramatics Society (BATS) from the 6th – 8th November 2025.