The Subplot: A Hyperfixation on the Titan Submersible is a show by Melbourne performer and musical theatre graduate Sophie Smyth (‘writing her way in’), with direction and dramaturgy by Casey Gould, and produced by Linda Catalano for Quiet RIOT.
Like much of the rest of the world, she tracked the 2023 Titan submersible disaster, from live news oxygen level countdowns, to the avalanche of gleeful memes, and to the eventual discovery that the participants had died almost immediately. But Smyth didn’t stop there, spending three years reading and studying every piece of media and evidence that was released on the topic, from contemporary interviews to the eventual inquiry.
Smyth greets us in a boiler suit (my second show of the day where this was the show outfit) with her name emblazoned on the pocket, welcoming us ‘mission specialists’ (the real term used by the Titan leadership, who marketed the experience as a chance to be not just a Titanic tourist, but crew.) We sit either side of a central walkway, which has the inquiry transcripts and Titantic literature in an artful mound at one end.
Smyth anchors proceedings from her screen at the front, initially with a decent dose of gallows humour (‘no pressure … much like the Titan’) and using an Xbox controller (also used by the Titan for navigation) for her projector screen. As she points out, much like the ‘unsinkable’ Titanic’s fate, the Titan implosion had everything; avoidable tragedy, a ticking clock, and some very, very rich people. The latter’s choice to attend (at huge financial cost) made them unsympathetic to the watching public – hence the flood of memes which Smyth gleefully reminds us of on her screen – but she takes care to convey the absolute dereliction of duty by the OceanGate team, headed by CEO Stockton Rush.
It’s still eye-wateringly shocking to be reminded of his delusion via behind-the-scenes footage and interviews; we see him glibly saying ‘I can do this just as safely by breaking the rules,’ and joyfully emerging from a dive where the carbon fibre has audibly creaked multiple times under the immense pressure. Smyth wryly paraphrases ‘Nothing bad can happen, only good happen,’ reminding us that the Titan actually made thirteen (‘and a half’) successful dives. It’s easy to foresee the avalanche of online schadenfreude had only Rush died on one of these earlier dives, rather than killing both himself and four paying customers – including 19-year-old Suleman Dawood – just 500ft from the Titanic wreck.
Smyth’s journey through the history of OceanGate and Rush is interspersed with her recreation of the experience the passengers would’ve had, from being bolted in above the waves to choosing songs (no country, per Rush’s request) to soundtrack the journey as they descended. It could be a trite choice, but she delivers it with real pathos and sincerity, and throughout also weaves in the degree to which staying up to date with the latest developments impacted her personally (I especially enjoyed the Instagram reels she posted at the time, which reflected the terminally online experience of watching the Titan’s story unfold.) She manages to masterfully walk the line between the hilarious delusion of Rush and the real tragedy and terror at the story’s heart; while reflecting on her own absorption in it all and what it meant for her feelings of isolation. It would have been interesting to get more of a sense of the time that went into her research and how she fit real life around it, but her depth of knowledge is a testament to many, many hours of research. Managing the competing emotional beats so well is a huge testament to her and director Casey Gould’s creative skill. Smyth also has a good run in Bojack Horseman-style tongue-twisters and touches of theatre-kid chaos (declaring ‘sub-plot!’ when she goes on a tangent) that remind us of the genuine wit and enthusiasm that underscores her investment. As our recreation comes to its inevitable conclusion, it is truly profound.
I wanted to see this show as soon as I heard about it, but nearly didn’t because of (self-imposed) scheduling chaos. Thank goodness, because it was blindingly impressive and human.
The Subplot: A Hyperfixation on the Titan Submersible is on at Former Womens Locker Room at Summerhall (3.20pm) until the 31st August