Not the End of the World is billed as ‘a thrilling re-telling of the Noah’s Ark story’. But this is not the cosy, creature-comfort-filled version of the classroom.
Nor is it the bumbling, boat-building version of the Mystery Plays, in which a quirkily quarrelsome family finds itself chosen to mitigate the effects of God the Father’s frustration. No, this is an altogether darker and more disturbing take on the old story - in which patriarchal power threatens to overwhelm human kindness and reason, in a wave of homicidal zealotry. The author is prepared to ask awkward questions such as: What about the people left behind? This ark seems less about saving humanity and protecting the animal kingdom, and more about promoting the interests of a narrow-minded and possibly self-selected group. Where is God? I say ‘possibly self-selected’ because we never see or hear God directly, and may begin to wonder whether he is in fact a convenient fiction. The original book was published in 2004, three months before the Tsunami and immediately became much more topical than the author ever intended. Add to this the fact that the original story comes from ancient Mesopotamia (Iraq), and it is not surprising that the production is as haunted by contemporary resonances as it is haunted by Middle Eastern song (composer Simon Allen). Not the End of the World is certainly thought provoking. The language of the play is clear and crisp, frequently throwing up insightful images and delicious ironies. And yet there is something missing. As the play begins, Timna (Celia Meiras), the heroine, pops up through a trap door and announces, ‘the end of the world is a busy time, if you mean to outlive it’. But the narrative drive that this suggests, fails to materialise, and much of the first half seems fractured and rudderless, lacking in any real theatrical rhythm. The traditional dramatic highpoints of the story - the building of the ark, the filling of the ark, the storms, the pact with God, the fresh start – mostly get rather short shrift. Because we don’t witness the arrival of the animals and they are confined out of sight, there is too little sense of their presence, despite the occasional telling monologues from individual species. The dove flies out, but we never see it return, and although the olive branch does appear, the moment is largely lost. Overbearing design It is as if Reade has been too respectful of the Whitbread Award winning book and has failed to adapt it thoroughly for this very different medium. The design, by James Cotterill, is also problematic. The dramatic deck, plunging from sky to audience, is impressive, but somehow too solid, too overbearing and static, hindering the action as much as helping it. Even in its current form, the play would probably work much better in a smaller space with a versatile touring set, which might also allow stronger ensemble playing. This adaptation may not be perfect, but there is much to enjoy and if you would like to see a version of Noah’s Ark that will make you think afresh about the original story, give it a go. | 
