There are many people for which capital L love remains elusive. It is a mysterious question that life poses, an elusive moment of clarity sought among the fog, a slippery fish escaping inexperienced hands.

The pursuit of love is often dismissed as frivolous, yet each connection carries the potential to change us, move us, dismantle what we think we know about life and reassemble it anew. Somehow, all of this unfolds within the mundanity of daily life: in the wine we drink; the food we prepare; the trips we take, and the memories we dare to confide.

Jez Butterworth’s The River entwines the mysteries of love, truth and memory with the ordinary stuff of life and the quiet profundity of nature. Like his other award-winning plays Jerusalem and The Ferryman, The River unfolds in a rural setting – in this case, in a secluded cabin by an unnamed river.

Designer Anna Tregloan employs dark, hanging drapes to evoke a dense forest backdrop that intimates remoteness and obscurity. At the centre sits the skeletal scaffold of a house, where we meet The Man (Ewen Leslie, Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde) and The Woman (Miranda Otto, Ladies in Black; A Doll’s House): a couple negotiating the fragile act of falling in love while attempting to merge two identities, two sets of desires, into one.

Miranda Otto and Ewen Leslie: The River. Photo © Daniel Boud

The Man is inspired by this cabin and the river that abuts it. Leslie commits fully to this loquacious character, delivering impassioned monologues on the exhilaration of catching his first fish, the magic of sunrise, and the poetry of the river itself.

After some persuasion, The Man takes The Woman to the river. Abruptly, Damien Cooper’s lighting shifts into a ragged storm, with piercing flashes of lightning matched by Sam Cheng’s sinister compositions. Through the thunder, The Man is heard calling the police to report a missing person. The moment lands comedically when The Woman calls out in reply; relief spreads, but then enters The Other Woman (Andrea Demetriades), and the confusion sets in – who is this woman?

The rest of the play unfolds like Groundhog Day or an episode of Russian Doll. This man is reliving the same conversations and events with two different women at two different points in time. Is this Ghosts of Girlfriends Past? Is man forever destined to repeat the same mistakes in his search for love, or is there something more troubling, even psychopathic, at work? The River presents as a puzzle to be solved, and Butterworth offers his audience very few clues.

Andrea Demetriades and Ewen Leslie: The River. Photo © Daniel Boud

Butterworth seems guided by the poetry he invokes, allowing the work to remain deliberately open to interpretation, sometimes to its own detriment. The forces motivating The Man are left undefined, inviting endless speculation. Director Margaret Thanos leans into the ambiguity with direction inspired by her own experience of heartbreak and loss. Her interest appears to lie in the discomfort of misunderstanding. Simple tasks are punctuated by strained silences and menacing music, suggesting something far more ominous than a play about fish, yet that threat is never quite realised.

Viewers may search for metaphor and meaning, only to find the experience somewhat anticlimactic, much like Otto’s role: ostensibly the marketing face of the show, yet regularly absent (as it is Leslie’s character who ultimately drives the narrative). This is only a matter of false expectation, however, as all three actors deliver nuanced and coherent performances. Otto and Demetriades might share dialogue, but their delivery is wholly their own.

Demetriades leans into the sexual chemistry and desire that often muddies early love, delivering a freedom, confidence and sensuality that stand in stark contrast to Otto’s quiet, vulnerable restraint. Each builds a distinct comedic rapport with Leslie that aptly reflects the nuances of different romantic relationships.

I’m not sure that I could tell you what this play is about, only that, much like love, it seeks to be profound. Whether it ultimately attains that depth is left to you to determine.

The River plays in the Drama Theatre, Sydney Opera House until 16 May.