Wind farms seem like a really good idea. They use wind (a good thing) and they’re a farm (anoth­er good thing) so any­one who com­plains about it should just shut up and think of the polar bears, right?
 
Except it’s a bit dif­fer­ent when those 111-metre-high towers are now all  you can see out the win­dows of your house and you’re wor­ried about the effect the vibra­tions from the tur­bine will have on your dog.
 
This ten­sion between tur­bine-lov­ing power com­pan­ies and the people who live in the area of a planned wind tur­bine install­a­tion is at the core of Tur­bine, the new SEEyD Theatre Com­pany pro­duc­tion at Down­stage.
 
More after the jump…

 
The story focuses on the Gusten fam­ily – wid­ow Gail, daugh­ter Susan and aut­ist­ic son Ari­el. They’re fre­quently vis­ited by power com­pany rep Mark, who’s kind enough to come over on a Sunday.
 
The timeline of the play is a little tricky, jump­ing back­wards and for­wards and with a few slightly sur­real break-aways. But it’s nev­er con­fus­ing, thanks to the skil­ful light­ing and sound design.
 
I was really impressed with the set design (cour­tesy of co-writer, dir­ect­or and per­former Tim Spite). The back­drop is a giant white­board sur­face with a basic land­scape sketched on it. Through­out the play, the act­ors add or erase bits to it as the story pro­gresses – sud­denly the hills have tur­bines atop them, but there’s also a toast­er get­ting power.
 
Wait, does it all sound really ser­i­ous? Cos the play was really funny. There’s a nice mix of phys­ic­al humour, wit and a little bit of fourth-wall-break­ing. It took a while for the audi­ence to warm up, but once things got going it was really enjoy­able.
 
The play toys with the idea of being a “bad future”, where the tur­bines drone omin­ously in the back­ground; and a “good future”, where the the wind farm has brought much hap­pi­ness, but ulti­mately the story comes down to the very human ele­ment of the Gusten fam­ily.
 
Tur­bine is play­ing at Down­stage until 7 March.  (You should go and see it, I reck­on.)