In Paper Trail, playwright Sean Lang explores the danger of uncovering the past through the story of Angie, an Australian woman searching for the mother she never knew. The piece, staged at the Etcetera Theatre, is a compact but thoughtful work that draws its strength from detail and sincerity rather than spectacle.
The play moves between the 1940s and early 2000s as Angie, played with buoyant optimism by Kirsty Smith, enlists the help of hospital archivist Mel (Penelope Saunders). Smith’s performance is warm and open, her natural charm giving the play its emotional pulse. As the play unfolds, Smith develops Angie from hopeful to genuinely happy, which helps to anchor the final scene.
Saunders, meanwhile, offers a grounded counterpoint. Her scenes at the archive, often punctuated by one-sided phone calls, are delivered with such quiet authenticity that she anchors the play’s more sentimental turns. Her naturalistic style lends itself extremely well to reacting to the joyful naivety of Angie.
Lucy Green brings texture to the role of Joan, the wartime mother whose story emerges in fragments. Her accent work is subtle and credible, and she manages several rapid transitions with composure, though I would like the writing to give Green more opportunities to deepen Joan’s arc. I feel the play repeats Mel’s maternal strife too often, at the cost of Joan’s backstory. Green is an actress worthy of a much more expansive role.
Beverley Dean delivers an icy, commanding Sister Mary, beautifully acted. Her accented, clipped delivery and measured restraint make the character’s cruelty both recognisable and chilling. Her acerbic judgement fills the theatre with nary a shouted word.
Purkiss’ direction makes the most of the Etcetera’s intimate black-box space, though the size of the venue occasionally constrains the time jumps (actors must squeeze past one another in ways that break the illusion of period). Still, the cast use the set imaginatively, and the lighting and sound design support the atmosphere with quiet professionalism. One inventive moment, when a sheaf of papers tied with ribbon stands in for a newborn baby, lands beautifully and is later echoed to moving effect.
Lang’s writing is at its best when rooted in archival realism. The scenes of Mel and Angie piecing together old ledgers feel alive and meticulous, clearly informed by his historian’s eye. The final reveal, however, is telegraphed too early, and the closing confrontation feels compressed by the play’s limited running time. What could be a moment of revelation becomes one of confirmation.
Still, Paper Trail remains an engaging, well-researched exploration of memory, motherhood, and moral restraint. It is a story that asks what we owe the past and how much truth we can bear to know.
The production would undoubtedly benefit from a larger space to explore its full potential and allow the talented cast to work without constraints. I hope to see it again if the run is extended.
